Morganders Musings
by wannabewriter07
Summary: This is a series of different one-shots based on the coupling of Greg Sanders and Morgan Brody. Mostly just fluff and smut. I love reading other writers' one-shot series about them, and that's all that i have the energy to write right now- small snippets. Hope you enjoy it. I do take requests if you have any.
1. Chapter 1

**Delightful Dreams- _Morgan is caught having sexual fantasies in her sleep about a certain co-worker. (Smut warning)_**

Morgan laid asleep on the break room couch, a serene smile crossing her face. Greg couldn't help but smile in return, watching her curled up and snuggled against the couch cushion. It was just so damn cute. Careful not to disturb her, he gently tiptoed over to the coffee maker to pour himself a cup.

"Hey Greg," Henry called out entering the break room, quickly quietening with a reprimanding look from Greg who pointed over to the couch. "Sorry," he lowered his voice as he walked closer to Greg, "I got the report back on the DNA of your suspect and-"

A soft sensual moan escaped Morgan's lips silencing Henry and drawing both men's attention to her sleeping form. She gave a small giggle and then moaned once more.

"What do you think that's about?" Greg asked Henry as they watched her, intrigued.

"Oh my God! Yes! Right there!" Morgan cried out, still dreaming.

Greg's jaw dropped as his eyes widened, staring at her. Henry smirked.

"I think she's having a sex dream," he whispered to Greg. Another loud moan came from Morgan, rougher and more passionate this time. Her body shifted, uncurling to lean back, arching slightly as if in the throes of ecstasy.

"Oh God! Greg!" she panted. Henry's mouth went agape as he turned to look at Greg. Stunned, Greg fumbled and dropped the mug from his hands. It crashed to the floor. At the sound of shattering glass, Morgan's eyes shot open.

She turned her head slowly catching both Henry and Greg in an awkward attempt to pretend they were not watching at her. Her face suddenly felt like it in was on fire, heat rushing to the surface.

"What? Was I snoring?" she asked, sitting up and brushing her blonde locks behind her shoulders.

Greg bend over to pick up the shards of his mug from the floor, avoiding her gaze. The corners of his mouth upturned in an uncontrollable grin.

"No, not exactly," he responded, still not looking at her.

Henry, however, stared at her. "Um… I should go," he stuttered as he moved to the door, stumbling on his way out, unable to tear his eyes away from Morgan.

Morgan watched him leave, confused and suddenly uncomfortable. She racked her brain. What had happened? Damn it! This was the third time this week she had woken up with her heart racing, desire and embarrassment mixing within her, and she still had no idea why. She couldn't remember anything from the time she drifted off to sleep until the moment she woke. What was causing her to feel this way? More importantly, what the hell was she doing in her sleep to cause such a reaction from her co-workers? She groaned. No more naps at work.

Greg was sopping up the remains of his coffee with a paper towel, tossing the remnants of his favorite mug away. He stood up, startled to find Morgan standing right in front of him, cocking an eyebrow.

"Okay, Sanders, what's going on?" She demanded to know crossing her arms and blocking him in.

He blushed as he shook his head. "Nice try, Brody, but I'll never tell. Let's go. We have an interview with our victim's therapist."

He brushed past her. His eyes lingered on hers, an expression in them she could quite read but made her feel tingly all the same. He walked out into the hall, glancing back at her, his whole face smiling bashfully. When he was out of view, Morgan finally exhaled a breath she just realized that she had been holding. What the hell was happening to her?

* * *

The red-headed woman sat dressed in a well tailored suit. She smiled, looking almost sinister, as Greg and Morgan entered the interrogation room. They sat across from her. Morgan opened the file, briefly scanning it.

"So, Dr. Kessler, Andrew Mason was a patient of yours?" she asked. The woman nodded, responding with an affirmative answer.

"What can you share with us about your interactions with Mr. Mason?" Greg continued. Dr. Kessler shifted her gaze between the two of them, the smile on her lips growing almost playful.

"I was counseling Mr. Mason on how to express his sexual desires. An area in which he struggled desperately." She watched Morgan's eyebrows raise. "I'm a sex therapist."

Morgan exchanged a brief uncomfortable glance with Greg. "I see,"she said, "and how exactly were you counseling him on this matter?"

"Ms. Brody, is there a reason why that might be pertinent?" Dr. Kessler asked, carefully observing the body language between the two CSIs. Greg kept letting his eyes drift in Morgan's direction, while Morgan seemed to tense every time Greg moved closer to her.

"Mr. Mason's body was found in a rather compromising position, one that could be related to a sexual act." Morgan laid out the crime scene photos for the doctor to examine. "Any information you could give us would be greatly appreciated."

The red-head's eyes met Morgan's. "Mr. Mason desired a woman he was close to. He had never told her of his feelings, fear getting in the way, but he came to me when his fantasies of her began to become uncontrollable. She invaded his dreams making it hard for him to rest or be around her for any length of time. He, however, was an incredibly shy man and needed help learning how express his desires without offending or scaring off his love interest. I was walking him through those steps." The doctor leaned over the table slightly, closer to Morgan. "If you are interested, I can do the same for you."

Morgan felt her face go flush and followed the doctor's gaze as it moved to Greg. His eyes were downcast, seeming to be studying the file, but his lips curled up in a smile, that despite his attempt to, he could not hide.

Morgan felt her heart beat faster. "Um…let's just stick to the case, shall we?" she said addressing the doctor.

After a few more questions, they concluded the interview. As Morgan and Greg rose to leave, Dr. Kessler gently rested a hand on Morgan's shoulder. Morgan turned to her.

"Sexual tension needs a release. The longer you let it build the more explosive it will become." Dr. Kessler motioned towards Greg, shooting her another tight-lipped smile. She handed Morgan her card. "I am available most weekdays."

Morgan watched her walk out the door, past Greg who furrowed his eyebrows in confusion as he turned to Morgan.

"What was that about?" he asked. Morgan looked into his eyes, her mouth going dry.

"No idea," she said, brushing it off with a laugh.

* * *

Morgan hit the floor hard, waking up with a searing pain in her foot. She threw the crumpled comforter off of her and reached for her swelling appendage. Another dreamless night, or at least none that she could recall, followed again by the same sensations: fluttering heart, rapid breathing, and a feeling of guilty pleasure running through her. And now she probably had a broken bone to add to the list. She tried to stand, only to sink back to the same position on the floor, pain radiating up her whole leg. She gasped at the severe agony that soared through her.

Leaning back, she grabbed her phone from her night stand. Without thinking, she dialed, not considering until she hung up that there were plenty of other people she could have called. But for some reason, he was the first one to come to mind.

* * *

"Morgan?" She heard him enter the apartment using her spare key.

"In here!" she cried out, blinking back the tears as her discomfort worsen. The door to the bedroom swung open, Greg emerging behind it. He let out a low whistle as his eyes ran over her, growing wide. It was only then that it occurred to Morgan that she was still in her black silk nightgown which had slid up to her thigh in her struggle to move her foot, exposing her bright pink panties underneath. She made a quick grab for the discarded comforter, throwing it back over her as Greg raised his gaze to the ceiling.

He swallowed hard before speaking. He felt his arousal growing and tried to block the lewd thoughts from his mind. "Morgan, are you sure you don't want me to just call an ambulance?" he asked, concentrating on a spot on the wall but still seeing the image of Morgan splayed sensually on the floor every time he blinked.

"No, no way. Can you take me? Please?" she whispered, wincing as she moved to cover herself with the flimsy nightgown.

He sighed. "Sure." His voice was soft but restrained. He bend down and hooked his arms under hers. His scent floated around her causing goosebumps to prickle all over her. She closed her eyes, feeling his body pressed up against her as he lifted her up, his chin tickling the space between her neck and collarbone. He gently set her on the bed, carefully propping her injured foot up on a pillow.

"Greg…," she hedged as he moved to make her more comfortable.

"Hmm?" he mumbled, his eyes refusing to meet hers, his cheeks tinting red as his hand ran along her calf.

"I can't go to the hospital wearing this. Can you…um…help me get dressed?"

His eyes shot to hers, a wary look in them. "Morgan, I don't think that's a good idea." His voice grew deep and husky as he fought his desires. "Do you have a robe I can just help you…" He trailed off as she shook her head, biting her lip. He closed his eyes and heaved another sigh. "Okay, where are your clothes?"

She pointed to the dresser along the wall, instructing him where to look. He came back to her carrying shorts and a sweatshirt per her instructions.

"Turn around," she said twirling her finger in Greg's direction.

"Yes ma'am." He gave her a small salute and sheepish grin as he turned to face the wall. His breath caught as his gaze shifted down to his feet where Morgan flung her discarded nightgown. He closed his eyes and tried to think of something else, anything else, beside what was going on behind him.

"Okay, all done. You can turn around now." Greg looked over his shoulder, his body following, as he took her in. He didn't know how it was possible but she looked even sexier than before in her cut-off shorts and oversized gray UCLA sweatshirt.

"Let's get you to the doctor then." He lifted her up, bridal style, taking careful consideration of her injured foot, and walked out of the apartment to his car.

* * *

"Looks like a sprain, but a severe one. You will probably be on crutches for a few days and in the boot for a week or so." Morgan nodded listening to the doctor's orders. "Oh, and make sure you don't attempt to lift anything heavy or put too much weight on that foot for a while. Leave all that dangerous stuff to your boyfriend." He nodded at Greg who stiffened at his words and shot a glance Morgan's way. She gave a nervous laugh.

She finished up the paperwork and took her prescriptions. Greg helped her down off the examination table and onto her crutches.

They left the hospital and headed back to Morgan's place. The ride was quiet. Morgan reached over and squeezed Greg's hand that rested on the console between them.

"Thank you for taking care of me. You have no idea how much that means to me," she said, letting her thumb caress the back of his hand.

He glanced over at her. "Sure, Morgan. Any time. That's what boyfriends are for, right?" He said jokingly, hoping to get a laugh, but it came across awkwardly instead as the silence stifled them. He coughed and withdrew his hand from hers, placing it next to his other one on the steering wheel.

Morgan tried to rectify the situation. "Well, if you were a good boyfriend, you would tell me what happened in the break room yesterday," she teased.

Greg smirked. "Well maybe I like being bad."

Something about the way he said it brought a familiar image to her mind. She and Greg were in bed, but that couldn't be right. That had never happened. Why would she think of that unless she had dreamed it up? Suddenly the realization hit her.

"Oh my God!" She sunk lower in the car seat burying her face in her hands. "I had a sex dream, didn't I?"

Greg shifted in his seat keeping his eyes on the road, silently confirming her suspicions. Morgan hit him on the shoulder.

"Greg Sanders! How could you not tell me? Oh God! I can't even imagine what I did in front of you and Henry in my sleep. No wonder he was looking at me like that. I think I'll just die of embarrassment now."

Greg pulled into the parking lot and parked the car. He got out and walked over to Morgan's side, opening the door.

She wouldn't look at him, even as he brushed the stray hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear.

"Morgan," his low whisper tickled her ear. "You know, I once heard that sexual tension needs a release or it can become explosive."

Morgan whipped her head toward him, staring into his mischievous dark brown eyes. "What did you have in mind?" she breathed.

Before she could say any more, he leaned in and pressed his lips against hers. She cupped his face with her hands, pulling him closer.

He broke the kiss, grinning wildly. "Something dirty," he said answering her earlier question. She let out a small gasp as he picked her up out of the car and carried her into the apartment. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and she rested her head on his shoulder. She let her lips graze right above the top of his t-shirt's collar where fabric met skin. She felt the groan bubble up inside him before he released it, quickening his pace to her bedroom.

Fantasy meshed with reality. He laid her back on the bed and gently climbed on top of her, planting another kiss on her soft lips. She ran her hands along the bottom edge of his shirt, and he helped her lifted it off. Her hands stroked his back, feeling the faint scars that covered him. Greg saw the questioning expression on her face.

"The lab exploded when I was a tech years ago. I kind of got the brunt of it," he hesitated, waiting for her reaction. She sat up on her elbows, sympathy clouding her eyes.

"Let me see," she said. Greg paused briefly, unsure, before turning around. She studied the scars, tracing each with her finger. She laid her lips against his back, kissing away the pain from so many years ago. Greg closed his eyes and embraced her touch until he couldn't take it any longer. He turned back to her, his mouth meeting hers with hungry desire.

His hands ran underneath her sweatshirt feeling the curves of her breasts. She exhaled sharply as he fondled her, teasing her with the slightest touch. Within minutes, her clothes were gone and Greg hovered over her, his bare thighs brushing against hers.

He leaned down, pressing his forehead against hers. "Are you sure?" he asked. She nodded, arching up to kiss him. And then with one thrust he was everywhere, inside her, around her, consuming her heart and soul.

They rocked in unison, exploring the forbidden, their hands roaming each other. Morgan's breath hitched as she fell apart at the same time Greg stilled against her, trembling.

Morgan laughed softly into his shoulder. "I think that was definitely explosive. I like you as a bad boy, Greg."

He grinned and kissed her cheek. "How about as a boyfriend?" he asked.

"That too," she smiled playing with his hair.

"I hope it lived up to your dream." He rolled next to her, kissing the crevice of her neck.

"Definitely," she answered, feeling the same sensations she had when she had awoken hours earlier with the new feeling of satisfaction spreading through her as she leaned further into Greg's warm embrace. "I think this is even better."


	2. Chapter 2

**Babysitting - Morgan and Greg get roped into babysitting Russell's granddaughter**

"Morgan," Russell called out to her. She walked into his office.

"What's up, Russell? I'm about to head out," she said slinging her purse over her shoulder.

"Yeah, I need you to do me a huge favor. Ecklie asked me to work overtime, but I was supposed to watch my granddaughter, Katie, while my wife went to her doctor's appointment. Would you be able to watch her for a few hours for me? I would really appreciate it."

"Sure," she agreed, "as long as you pay more than five dollars an hour. I think minimum wage went up since I was a teenager."

Russell smiled. "Absolutely. I can't thank you enough. My wife is going to be here any minute to drop her off."

* * *

Morgan sat at the entrance to the police station checking her watch as she waited for Russell's wife to show up. She sighed. She hoped this wouldn't take up too much time. Sleep pressed on her, but she pushed the exhaustion aside, stifling it with a yawn.

Greg stood across the station lobby watching her. He couldn't help but smile every time he saw her. She just did something to him. He couldn't explain it, not that he ever tried to because that would mean admitting he was falling the sheriff's daughter. And that was off limits.

"Go home, Brody. Shift's over," he said approaching her. She glanced up at him.

"Wish I could. I volunteered to babysit for Russell. His wife's going to drop off their granddaughter any minute now," she responded, looking again at her watch. He sat beside her.

"I'll wait with you. You know, to help keep you awake," he said, smiling.

"Thanks." She returned the smile and was about to say something when a small girlish voice started calling her name. The petite bouncing brunette child approached her.

"Hi, Katie sweetie. Are you ready to go?" Morgan took the young girl's hand. She ignored Morgan and turned to Greg.

"Are you coming too, Greg?" she asked, batting her lashes."Pretty please?" Greg looked at Morgan.

"She's good," he said. He turned to Katie. "Sure, I'll come if it's okay with Morgan."

"It's okay, isn't Morgan? Please?" Katie pleaded, folding her hands under chin as if she were praying.

Morgan laughed and glanced back at Greg. "You're right. She is good. It's fine with me, sweetheart." Her eyes locked with his. "But I'm not sharing my commission." She gave him a smirk.

Russell's wife, Barbara, caught up to them then. "Morgan, thank you so much for doing this. I can't tell you how much this is helping me out."

"Any time," Morgan said.

"Grandma, guess what?" Katie said pulling on her grandmother's hand.

"What darling?" Barbara smiled down at her granddaughter.

"Greg's going to come too." Katie looked up at Greg grinning.

"Oh, is that right?" Barbara said.

"Only if it's okay with you, Mrs. Russell," Greg jumped in.

"Oh, course of, course of. Well, I have to be off. You three have fun." She bend down and gave Katie a hug and then hurried out of the building, rushing to her appointment.

Greg looked between Katie and Morgan. "Where to ladies?" Katie smiled and grabbed Morgan's hand with her left and Greg's hand with her right.

"Follow me," she commanded causing Morgan to shoot Greg a nervous look as they begin walking hand in hand in hand to the parking lot.

* * *

Morgan unlocked the door to her apartment and pushed it open. Katie ran past her into the living area.

"Well, this should be fun. She has more energy than both of us combined," Morgan told Greg as they followed Katie into the place.

The little girl bounced from room to room inspecting Morgan's place for anything that she considered interesting.

"Do you have any games?" she asked Morgan, pouting when Morgan shook her head no.

"Sorry, sweetie. But we can find something fun to do. We just have to use our imaginations" Morgan looked to Greg for help.

"Right," he agreed searching Morgan's pristine apartment for something kid friendly. His eyes stopped at the kitchen. "Hey why don't we do some science experiments? We can use some of the stuff in Morgan's kitchen."

Katie nodded, smiling from ear to ear. Greg walked with her into the kitchen as Morgan followed behind them.

Greg rummaged through the pantry, grabbing what he needed. "I'm going to show you how to make play dough. You like play dough, right Katie?"

Katie's eyes gleamed as she watched Greg combine the ingredients together, mixing them. Katie laughed squishing the dough between her fingers.

Morgan watched them interacting, her heart fluttering at the sight of Greg playing a fatherly role with Katie. He was laughing and rubbing the mixture on Katie as they played in the kitchen. Katie giggled, throwing the dough at Greg, making a mess. Greg looked up at Morgan in the midst of their game and caught her admiring stare. She looked down, her cheeks slightly flushing. He stopped about to say something when Katie piped up.

"Can we do something else now? This is getting gross." She picked a piece of dough from her hair.

"Okay," Morgan said. "Time for a new game. But first, let's clean this up."

* * *

"Let's have a tea party!" Katie squealed, spotting Morgan's grandmother's china in the cabinet. Morgan frowned and shook her head.

"Sorry, sweetie, that's very expensive." Katie's face dropped. Morgan exhaled searching around for an alternate plan. That's when she got an idea. "We can play dress up though. I think I have a bunch of old clothes in my closet." Katie looked up, grinning once again as she agreed. Greg arched an eyebrow, interested to see what Morgan had hidden away.

A few minutes later, Morgan emerged from her bedroom, dragging a large box behind her.

"Okay here is it, Katie. Have at it." Katie dug into the box pulling out dresses, old t-shirts, and other things Morgan hadn't worn since high school.

"Pretty!" Katie pulled an oversized glittery purple dress over her clothes, spinning around. Morgan laughed.

"You certainly are," she said as she twirled the dancing girl around the room. Greg bend down looking through the box himself.

"Whoa! Morgan Brody was a cheerleader?" He held up a red and white uniform. "I would have never guessed." Morgan's face turned red.

"I thought I burned that," she groaned.

Katie gasped looking at the outfit. She turned to Morgan giddy. "Put it on, Morgan. Please," she begged.

"Yeah, Morgan. Please?" Greg imitated Katie, cocking a eyebrow unable to hide his smirk.

Morgan rolled her eyes and took the uniform from Greg's hands. "Fine, but there will be no pictures. Got that, Sanders?" Greg raised his hands up as if to say 'who me?'.

A few minutes later, Morgan hesitantly stepped out of the bathroom. Greg's jaw dropped at the sight of her. Katie ran up and hugged her. "You're beautiful. Like a princess."

Morgan laughed. "You are too kind." She smoothed out the skirt with her hands. "I can't believe it actually fits." She glanced up at Greg, seeing him frozen with a look of surprise on his face. "Greg, are you okay?"

His trance broke at the sound of his name. "Yeah, fine." He swallowed. "You look…um, inspiring. Definitely lifting my spirits." Something passed between them as their eyes met, holding each other's gaze. Katie pulled on Morgan's hand, causing her to turn her attention to the child.

"Can we play hide and seek?" she asked. Morgan looked again at Greg, the moment lost. He shrugged.

"Sure sweetie," Morgan answered.

* * *

Morgan and Katie hid first but were quickly found. Then it was Katie and Greg. It was about four rounds in when Morgan got the bright idea to hide in the closet she called a laundry room, if for nothing else some peace and quiet.

She sat on the washing machine and leaned her head back against the wall, momentarily closing her eyes. She heard the rustling of the sliding wooden door opening and glancing in that direction caught sight of Greg.

"Hey," she whispered," this is my hiding spot. Go find your own." Greg put his finger to his lips to shush her as he crowded in to the small room.

"We can share. Besides all the other good places have already been used," he said. Morgan smiled.

"Fine," she said, leaning back once more. She watched Greg move awkwardly around the confined space looking for someplace to stand. "You're really sweet with her. It's cute," she continued as he found spot in front of the dryer.

"Couldn't keep your eyes off me, huh?" he smirked.

Morgan shook her head, smiling still. "I'm just saying you're good with kids. You ever think about having any yourself? One day, in the future?"

Greg moved closer to her. "Sure. When I meet the right person, I wouldn't mind having a few. Two girls and two boys, maybe."

"Four kids? Wow, Sanders, you are ambitious." She raised an eyebrow.

He shrugged. "I always wanted a big family, I guess, since I didn't really have one growing up." It was quiet for a moment and then he looked at her grinning.

"What?" she asked. He shook his head still smirking.

"Don't laugh, okay? But this is kind of like my teenage fantasy come true." Morgan gave him a questioning look. "I always wondered what it would be like to trapped in a closet with a hot cheerleader," he continued. Morgan blushed at the insinuation.

"Greg Sanders, are you trying to seduce me?"

"That depends. Are you seducible?" He leaned in, his mouth just inches from hers. She felt his warm breath on her lips, closing her eyes in anticipation. Then a bright flash of light startled them both. They turned to see Katie standing at the doorway, holding up Morgan's phone.

"Oops," she drew out the word, looking between the two of them waiting to be scolded.

Greg turned back to Morgan. "Looks like you warned the wrong person about taking pictures." Morgan pushed off her hands and jumped down off the washing machine. She walked over to Katie, taking the phone from her grasp.

"Katie, sweetheart, what are you doing with my phone?" she asked as she knelt down by the girl.

"I wanted to play a game," Katie answered, giving her best version of puppy dog eyes. Morgan sighed.

"I'll tell you what. Let's watch a movie instead," Morgan suggested.

* * *

Katie stretched out on the floor, propping up on her elbows as she laid mesmerized in front of the tv. Morgan and Greg sat on the couch behind her, sleep creeping up on them. Morgan rested her head against Greg's shoulder as he threw an arm around her, drawing her in.

A knock and the sound of the front door opening woke Greg from his sleep. He tried to raise up from the laying position he was in on the couch, but the weight of Morgan sleeping against his chest stopped him.

"Grandpa!" he heard Katie shriek and then the footsteps as his supervisor walked into the living room, catching him and Morgan in a seemingly compromising position.

"Russell, this isn't-" Greg started, trying to sit up without waking Morgan.

"Looks like you all had fun," Russell smiled and turned his attention to his granddaughter. "Grandma's right down stairs in the car. Why don't you go down there and tell her all about your fun time at Morgan's?" Katie nodded and headed out the door.

Russell watched her walk out the door and then turned back to Greg, shaking his head. "I never really pegged Morgan as the cheerleader type," he said, still grinning. "Thanks for watching Katie for us. Here's some cash." He pulled a couple of bills from his wallet. "When she wakes up, take her out somewhere nice." He motioned to Morgan as he handed Greg the cash. "I'll, um, see myself out. See you two tomorrow."

"Thanks," Greg said, still groggy and somewhat surprised. The closing of the door stirred Morgan. She sat up and quickly moved away from Greg, sensing the awkwardness of the situation.

She looked around. "Where's Katie?" She panicked not seeing the little girl.

"Russell just picked her up," Greg answered. Morgan looked at him, horrified.

"Russell was here. He saw us like that and me like this." She took a deep breath, pondering the consequences. She picked at her outfit, realizing she need to change and fast.

"Yeah, and he pays pretty well. Want to go grab something to eat?" he asked, waving the cash in his hands.

Morgan smiled. "Sure, just let me change first." She stood to go to her bedroom when Greg grabbed her arm and swung her into a romantic embrace as he planted an intense kiss on her lips. They pulled apart slowly, staggering away from each other.

"Sorry," Greg said sheepishly, "but the teenage boy inside me couldn't resist."

Morgan laughed and tugged on his shirt, pulling him in for another kiss. She let her lips lingered a little longer this time. She trailed her hand down his chest.

"Maybe I am seducible," her voice became a breathy whisper. "But first you have to buy me dinner." She glanced over her shoulder, shooting Greg a seductive smile as she sauntered to her bedroom to change. Greg grinned, shaking his head. He should swing by the toy store later, he thought. After all, he owed their eight year old matchmaker a big thank you.


	3. Chapter 3

**Roommates- Morgan has to stay at Greg's place for a weekend**

"Becca, you can't be serious! That's the fourth time in three months!" Morgan ranted into the phone. Greg watched her pace the office floor, shaking her head in frustration as she listened to the person on the other end.

"Fine, but you owe me big," Morgan gritted into the receiver before hanging up.

"Everything alright?" Greg asked. Morgan looked up at him, startled. She forgot that she wasn't alone.

"Yeah, just roommate issues. Becca's boyfriend is in the military. Every time he gets leave, she politely kicks me out so they can have alone time together, which is fine except…" Morgan sighed.

"Except what?" Greg met her gaze.

"Except I always end up having to stay at my dad's for the weekend, and it's awkward. We can make causal conversation and are fine at work, but living in close quarters next to each other…well, let's just say it's not the ideal situation. I hate to even ask him again." Morgan groaned and blew a strand of hair out of her face.

"Then stay somewhere else." Greg smiled, enjoying the cute way her nose twitched and her lips pouted when she was angry.

"Great idea, Greg. Why didn't I think of that?" The sarcasm dripped off her tongue as she rolled her eyes. "I don't have money for a hotel. And I've processed too many motels to stay in any of those, so I'm stuck."

Greg crossed his arms over his chest, staring and smirking at her. "So stay with me then."

"Huh?" Her jaw went slack in shock as she stared back at him. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, why not? I have an extra bedroom. Besides you will be so eternally grateful that it will give me something to hold over you. Like when we have to decide who's going to dumpster dive or scrape off the partially gelled human remains from the ceiling."

Morgan shuddered remembering their last gruesome crime scene. Vegas heat and severely expired dead people did not mix well, or gel in that particular case. She debated her options but still considered one day of dealing with disgusting rotting body parts better than enduring three days at her dad's place.

"Fine, Sanders. You have yourself a deal."

* * *

Morgan hesitated before knocking. She knew staying at her dad's would be a disaster, but she was starting to have second thoughts about accepting Greg's offer. Although, there was really little she could do about it now as she stood on his doorstep, her suitcase parked beside her.

"Come on in," he said, opening the door. She gave a faint smile and wheeled her suitcase into his house.

"Wow, Greg, this is actually nice," she said, impressed as she surveyed the modestly elegant decor in the tidy living space.

"What were you expecting? Mismatched furniture and pizza boxes?" Greg smirked, closing the door behind her.

She turned to him, giving a small laugh. "Well, honestly, yeah. Or something that screamed more bachelor pad than-"

"Actual adult," Greg finished for her, amused at her surprise. He pointed to a hallway off the kitchen. "The guest room is this way." He grabbed her luggage and started walking in that direction as Morgan followed him.

Greg showed her where everything was located and how to work the fixtures in the bathroom before leaving her to unpack. After he left, Morgan took careful study of the things in the room, stopping last by the display of pictures hanging on the wall. Some were of Greg with friends she didn't recognize doing things like surfing, skiing, and hiking. One picture caught her attention though. It was of her and Greg with their co-workers after their first annual softball match against the police force. Greg had his arm slung over her shoulder as she had leaned in closer to him, smiling for the camera, her closed eyes almost hidden under her baseball cap. The memory brought a warm feeling.

"That one's my favorite." The voice came from right behind her, making Morgan jump.

"Greg, you scared me. You aren't going to be sneaking up on me like that all weekend, are you?" Morgan turned to face him, spotting his sly grin.

"Well if I say yes, it takes all the fun out of it, doesn't it?" he teased. "Actually, I'm about to order some pizza and wanted to see if you were interested in joining me. Are you?"

Morgan smiled and nodded. "Sure, but no pepperoni. That one case has put me off meat for a while." She grimaced thinking of the pink jellied flesh she examined under the microscope only hours earlier.

Greg laughed. "One vegetarian pizza coming up."

* * *

Greg propped his feet up on the coffee table as he leaned back against the couch, chowing down on a greasy slice of pizza. His eyes focused on the flatscreen tv in front of him. Morgan watched him as she walked from the kitchen, shaking her head as she tried to understand how the slob on the couch could keep the tidy house surrounding them.

"Scoot over," she demanded as she plopped down next to him, carrying her paper plate. Greg shifted to make room, eyes still glued to the television screen. Intrigued by his non responsive reaction, Morgan turned to the screen herself. An image of an out of shape naked man with his butt crack blurred out greeted her. She made a face and nudged Greg.

"Dude, I'm eating here. Can we watch something else?" she asked. He turned to look at her then, taking in a deep breath when he realized how close they were together on the couch, her shoulder brushing up against his. He sat up straighter, tossing the rest of his pizza on the plate on the coffee table.

"Sorry," he said wiping off his hands on a napkin. "This show always sort of hypnotizes me." He searched for the remote.

"What is it?" Morgan asked, scrunching her eyebrows as she nibbled on her slice.

"It's called 'Naked and Afraid'. They drop these two people off in the wild somewhere without anything, including clothes, and see if they can survive without help for twenty one days. It's kind of crazy and addicting to watch."

Morgan shot Greg a skeptical look out of the corner of her eye after viewing a scene of the naked man trying to catch a fish with his bare hands. "Oh, I see. And you find this entertaining because…"

Greg rolled his eyes, smirking, as he knocked his shoulder playfully against hers. "Okay, Princess, what do you want to watch?" He gave her the remote.

Morgan smiled. "About time. I mean, I am the guest and all. You up for a movie?" She scrolled the guide. "Oh, Pretty Woman! I love this movie," she said, flipping the channel.

"Great choice. Why watch people try to survive the wilderness when we can watch a movie about a hooker falling for an arrogant jerk?" he scoffed. Morgan laughed and then leaned back against him after setting her empty plate on the coffee table.

"Well, there is no naked fat man, so there's a plus. Besides it's sweet and romantic and I'm not giving you back the remote so deal with it."

Greg laughed and then put his arm around her shoulder, almost unconsciously, although Morgan was well aware of his hand resting against her.

"Touché," he said. They settled back, getting more comfortable as they snuggled together.

Ninety minutes later, the credits started to roll. Greg's eyes fluttered open as he tried to move. He looked down to see what was blocking him only to find Morgan asleep, her head resting against his chest.

Careful not to wake her, he gently lifted her up and carried her to the guest room, where he tucked her in the bed **.** He watched her sleeping for a moment longer, unable to help but think about how beautiful she looked.

"Night," he whispered as he turned off the light on his way out.

* * *

A sound woke him up. Actually, it was more like a melody. He followed the source of it, leading to behind the guest bathroom door where Morgan was taking a shower.

"It rode us all the way to New Orleans," she sang, a soulful rendition of "Me and Bobby McGee" drifting out into the hall. Greg pressed his ear to the door, listening intently as her voice dove into the chorus, the sound of her gripping him a way he couldn't explain. He closed his eyes and hummed along, losing himself to the song, until the door swung open, causing him to stumble.

"Greg!" Morgan stood in front of him with only a towel draped around her. "What are you doing?" she hissed, her cheeks flaming red. "I thought we talked about this sneaking up on me business."

Greg stared at her, dumfounded, his eyes lingering on the parts of her covered by the white terrycloth.

"Um…" he started. His gaze snapped up to meet hers. "Sorry. I heard you singing and… You have an incredible voice."

Morgan's blush deepen. "Thanks. I used to sing in a band, but I don't get to perform much anymore. Well, except in the shower."

"I wouldn't mind a front row seat to that show," Greg mumbled under his breath, giving her another once over glance.

"What?" Morgan asked, knitting her eyebrows together.

Greg smiled and shook his head. "Nothing."

An awkward silence settled between them.

"So…You want breakfast? I was about to cook some." Greg asked, coughing as he tried to break the tension.

Morgan smiled. "That would be great, but can I get dressed first?" Greg looked at her confused and then realized he was blocking the way to her room.

"Yeah, sorry. I'll be in the kitchen." He moved to let her pass, trying not to stare as she went to her room.

* * *

"That smells delicious," Morgan said, leaning over Greg's shoulder as he fried some eggs and bacon in a skillet. He let his eyes waver over her, catching a glimpse of her causal attire of shorts and a t-shirt. He felt her soft breath against the his neck as she leaned further in to take another whiff.

"Papa Olaf's famous greasy eggs and beer battered french toast." He nodded toward the griddle, where a side of fluffy french toast awaited them.

"Mmmm…This is awesome,"Morgan said, pinching a bite of the toast as she grabbed a plate. "I have to say, Greg, I'm sort of surprised you don't have a girlfriend. I mean it's not everyday you find a cute guy who can cook and keep a clean house."

He loaded some eggs and bacon onto her plate as she sat down at the table.

"Yeah, well, I don't get out much these days or I would have already scored some hot girl with a sexy voice who used to be in a band." Morgan stifled a laugh to keep from choking on her food.

"Alright. I know. I really should be the one to talk. I guess we're just two of a kind, you and I. Destined to be single."

"Speak for yourself. I've got a hot date with Netflix later." He smirked, diving his fork into his meal.

Morgan smiled. "Well, maybe I'm join you as a third wheel."

"We'd like that," Greg answered before he shoved a bite into his mouth.

* * *

"Okay, your move," Greg eyed her over the chess board as she looked down calculating a strategy. She picked up one of her knights and then looked up at him. Greg smirked, already tasting victory, when Morgan's phone buzzed. She glanced down at it, setting the horse shaped piece back in place.

"I have to take this," she said, grabbing the phone and walking to the edge of the room.

"Becca?" she said into the receiver. Greg leaned back, checking his watch. They had been playing for over an hour. It hadn't seemed that long, but time always seemed to fly whenever he was around Morgan.

"What? Oh my God! That's great. I can't believe it." He looked up at her, watching her eyes grow wide with her smile, matching the excited squeal in her voice. "Tell me everything."

Greg sighed going to the fridge to grab a soda as he waited for Morgan to get off the phone. For the last twenty minutes, all he heard was Morgan saying "No way" and "Oh my God!" and shrieking every now and then with delight. She glanced over at him and mouthed the word sorry. Greg just nodded in return, sending a polite smile as he tipped his soda can in her direction before taking another sip. Morgan hung up finally and walked back to the kitchen table.

"Sorry, that was my roommate. Her boyfriend proposed last night." She picked up her rook and jumped Greg's queen. He did a double take, studying her play before responding.

"Really? That's nice." He inched his bishop in line to capture Morgan's king. "Check."

"Yep, it looks like I have to find a new place to live now." Morgan sighed. She moved her king behind her queen.

"Why don't you just move in here?" Greg said without thinking as he made his final move. "Check mate." He smirked, looking up at Morgan to see her sitting frozen in place, a stunned expression on her face.

"Really?" she asked. Greg thought back to what he just said, realizing that he had just asked Morgan to move in with him. He cleared his throat as he sat up straighter.

"Sure, I've got the extra room, and I kind of like having the company." He stood to put the chess pieces away.

"Thank you," she said, getting up and surprising Greg with a hug. He grinned, pulling her into a tighter embrace. They held each other for a moment longer, neither seeming to want to let go. Morgan leaned back, her face just inches from Greg's. Before she could say anything else, Greg's lips found hers. The kiss was gentle yet intense and growing more so with each second. She felt his tongue brush against hers as his hands moved under the bottom of her shirt, caressing her bare back.

"Greg," she whispered as she pulled away, "what are we doing?"

"Something we should have done years ago," he answered as he lifted her up, wrapping her legs around his waist. He kissed her again, carrying her latched around him to his bedroom.

Time stood still as they explore new territories and the terrains of each other's bodies. Everything was familiar, but fresh, new in the way she touched him and in the way he caressed her.

Wrapped in his sheets, she laid against him, spooning, intertwining her fingers with his as his lips rested against her neck.

"That was amazing," he said, the words sinking into her skin as he spoke. She smiled and brought his hand up to her lips, kissing her agreement.

"Do you think us moving in together is still a good idea?" she whispered, holding her breath in anticipation of his answer.

He rolled her over so that her gaze could meet his. "I think it's the best idea. In fact, I think we should do something to celebrate the occasion."

"Like what?" Morgan giggled as Greg moved on top of her again and wagged his eyebrows.

He bent over and kissed her, running his hands up her hips to the curve of her breasts. "Like this."


	4. Chapter 4

**The Quiet Game- I took this idea from a prompt on otpprompts on tumbler. Here's the prompt: "Imagine Person A suggests playing a game where whoever stays quiet the most, wins. Person B is very competitive and wants to win. But then Person A, who wants to win more, starts kissing Person B's neck, ears, etc. They start having sex and Person B can't be quiet." (Extreme smut warning!)**

Greg closed the blinds to the office, and then locked the door. Morgan watched him, studying his strange behavior, as she shuffled some files around her desk.

"What are you doing?" she asked. Greg whipped around and shushed her, holding a finger to his lips.

"I'm hiding from Hodges. Don't ask. It's a long story. I don't want him to know I'm in here so be quiet."

Morgan scoffed, offended. "Are you seriously telling me to be quiet when you can't ever shut up whenever we are working a case?"

"What's that suppose to mean?" Greg whispered angrily.

"It's means you have a story for everything. An anecdote about fears or fetishes or a lengthy tale from Nana Olaf. Not that I don't enjoy hearing them, but if you're going to chastise anybody for not being quiet, it should be yourself."

"Whatever Morgan. I can be quiet a whole lot longer than you could if I had to be. I mean you are the woman with an opinion or advice for everything."

Morgan slammed the files in her hand on the desk. Greg grimaced at the sound, glancing towards the door to make sure no one heard. When he looked back in Morgan's direction, he was startled to find her standing right in front of him, arms crossed and glaring.

"Is that a challenge, Greg Sanders?" she demanded to know. He stood from his chair, eyeing her back.

"Yeah, it is. One that I'm going to win."

Morgan's angry expression turned sly, a smirk crossing her face. "Okay then, starting now, first one to talk or make a sound loses. Loser buys breakfast." She held out her hand and Greg shook it, returning the smirk.

Ten minutes in, Greg was becoming antsy. Every time he looked over in Morgan's direction, he ached to say something, but there was no way he was going to lose this battle. Yet another glance aimed her way, he spotted her crouched down at the filing cabinet, giving him a brilliant idea.

He snuck up behind her and felt her jump as he placed his hands on her sides. She twisted her head up, shooting him a dirty look as he began to tickle her. She bit her lip, determined to contain the laughter and pushed him away. Standing back from him, she balled her fists by her sides and glared at his arrogant grin. She shook her head and then smiled as a idea formed in her mind. Two could play this game.

She slowly walked over to him, a finger pressed against her full lips that hid a smirk. Greg folded his arms in front of him, knitting his brows in confusion. What was she doing?

She stood right in front of him now. So close, he could smell the mint on her breath. She leaned in, as if she were about to whisper, about to surrender. But she didn't. Instead, she took his ear lobe lightly between her teeth and teased it with her tongue. His mouth dropped open in shock. Greg closed his eyes and relaxed his stance as her lips made their way down his neck, puckering and gently sucking. He felt all the blood drain from his head down to the southern region of his body. His erection stiffened against the fabric of his boxers. He took a deep breath, trying to stop the groan fighting to escape him as he felt Morgan's fingers tease the skin above the hem of his jeans. Holy shit, could she play dirty!

Not that he couldn't play just as dirty. While she nibbled on his neck, his hands ventured up the back of her blouse. He felt her tense as he unclasped her bra and grazed his hands along the edge of her breasts. She pulled back to stare at him. She desperately wanted to speak now. To ask him what they were doing and if they should. But in all honesty, she didn't know if she really wanted to hear the answer. So she decided to just forge ahead, grasping at the snap on Greg's jeans as she unbuttoned it and zipped the zipper down, causing them to fall to the floor. His boxers followed next. Greg gasped, the sound too faint to stop the game, as she cupped him and then ran her fingers along him. Her eyes locked onto his and he leaned down to kiss her, hungry and desperate for more. She gently pressed both her hands on his chest, pushing him backwards into the plush office chair behind him.

She climbed on top on him, straddling him, as her shirt made it over her head and onto the floor, her bra soon joining it. She kissed Greg while his hands glided up her smooth ivory skin. His thumb caressed her nipple, and she broke the kiss, burying her head into his neck as she silently moaned against him, the vibration of the sound almost sending him over the edge. His hands gripped her shoulders, drawing her back, and he mouthed the word 'condom' to her. She frowned until Greg nodded towards his discarded jeans and mouthed the word 'wallet'.

Minutes later, Morgan had shed the rest of her clothes as she lowered herself onto Greg. The competition was now the furthest thing from either of their minds as she moved against him, eliciting a soft moan from him that increased in volume each time their hips went flush against each other.

"Oh God, Morgan," he sighed, trailing kisses along her collarbone as she rode him. Then he couldn't stand it any longer. He pulled Morgan against him, holding her tight as he shuddered, letting go.

She laid her head on his shoulder, and then tickled his neck with a whisper.

"You lose." She smiled, leaning back to gauge his reaction.

He laughed. "That's strange because I feel like I just won the jackpot." Morgan moved to kiss him when the rustling of the door handle turning stopped them cold.

"Greg? Are you in there?" A familiar lab tech's voice called from the other side. Quickly, they jumped up and scrambled to get dressed. Morgan ran her fingers through her hair, and both of them tried to appear causal when they heard the sound of a key turning in the lock.

The door swung open and Hodges and Ecklie stared at them from the doorway.

"What's going on in here?" the sheriff hedged, eyeing the two CSIs cautiously.

Morgan and Greg exchanged a brief glance. "We were just working on…an experiment," she answered. Greg looked down at the desk, biting back a smirk.

Hodges barged into the room. "Greg, I've been trying to get a hold of you all night. You're not answering your phone and-"

"Hey, look at that,"Greg said glancing at his phone now, "it's six o'clock. Shift's over. How about that breakfast?" He turned to Morgan, ignoring the incensed lab tech.

"I'd love to," Morgan answered, grabbing her purse. They shuffled past Ecklie and Hodges, who stood staring at them as they walked into the hall.

When they had walked a considerable distance away, Greg leaned down to Morgan and whispered, "So, how about after breakfast, we go back to my place and perform another experiment?"

Morgan grinned. "What kind of experiment?"

"I think this time we should attempt to see who can be the loudest." Greg took her hand in his as they walked out into the parking lot.


	5. Chapter 5

**Small Surprises - something random I thought of, maybe a little cheesy. I'm a terrible judge of my own work. Oh well. Enjoy.**

Greg Sanders walked into the Las Vegas crime lab. It had only been seven months, but somehow it felt like a lifetime had gone by. He was surprised to find not much had changed. The smells were the same, sterile and familiar. The walls had a fresh coat of paint, but little else to distinguish the passing of time since Greg last set foot there. Marcie, with her bad jokes and strong perfume, still worked reception. Acquaintances from the swing shift, just getting off, greeted him with waves and handshakes as they moved through the lobby on their way out.

"Hey stranger, long time no see." Greg turned around and gathered the petite brunette into a hug.

"Sara," he said releasing his old friend, "you look great. How are you? How is everybody?"

"Busy as ever. Crime never takes a vacation unlike some people." She smiled.

"It wasn't a vacation. Trust me on that. It was more like an paid internship with the FBI. Not like I would ever have turned it down though." Greg grinned, scanning those entering through the lab's entrance for the next shift, one person in particular on his mind.

"Well, you are a genius with DNA and you deserved it. It's good to have you back." Sara followed his wavering gaze. She sighed, her smile turning almost sad. "She's not here. She works days now."

Greg's focus shifted back to Sara, unable to hide his disappointment.

"Oh," he said as if the air had been let out of him. He had been looking forward to this for weeks. The last time he saw Morgan was the night before he left. A night he could never forget. It replayed in his mind night after night, when the hotel rooms had become stale and lonely. Sometimes, the memory of it was all that would get him through the dark days dealing with the most dangerous and depressing case he had ever worked.

 **Seven Months Earlier…**

Greg was checking his suitcase again, securing everything into place, marking off all the essentials for his long departure. Catherine had recommended him when her boss demanded an expert on DNA for the high profile serial killer case known as "the Senator Slasher." Four US senators had already met their fate and several more had been marked as targets. Due to heavily guarded evidence, it had become obvious that the killer was a master manipulator when it came to disguising the true identity behind his DNA profile, but Catherine told Greg, they were certain that it was also the key to finding him. With the sheriff's and Russell's blessing, he had taken leave to help crack the case, if for nothing else the experience of working with the highest ranking agents in the FBI.

A knock at the door startled him. He checked his watch. It was late, almost two in the morning and he had a flight leaving at nine. He considered ignoring whoever it was, but after a few more knocks, thought better of it, going to see who it was.

"Morgan?" He couldn't contain his surprise as his tear-streaked colleague drew him into a hug. He rested his chin on the crown of her head as she cried softly into his shoulder, clinging tightly to him.

"Greg, I'm sorry." She pulled away wiping her eyes. "I just had to say goodbye one last time. I'm really going to miss you."

Greg's expression went soft. He rubbed her shoulders, smiling sadly. "I'm going to miss you too, but it's only for a few months. I won't be gone forever."

"Yeah right, until they offer you a dream job you can't refuse."Morgan returned the bitter smile. She reached up and kissed his cheek. Pulling away, her eyes locked onto his. Greg leaned down, briefly hesitating, before brushing his parting lips against hers. Morgan deepened the kiss, teasing his tongue with hers.

Greg led her into the apartment, holding her close, his lips never leaving hers. Restless tension and urgency worked between them as articles of clothes tumbled to the floor. His suitcase laid forgotten on the dresser as they made their way to the bedroom. He was gentle and she was caring as they made love. Her hands caressed his backside and then ran through his hair. His mouth savored the sweet taste of her, paying careful attention to every sensual spot.

When his alarm woke them, he silently cursed, suddenly regretting his decision to go. But he would be back. In less than a year more than likely. Morgan would still be there, wouldn't she?

 **Present Day…**

He spotted her from the end of the hall, long lovely blonde locks cascading down her back. He broke out in a cold sweat at the thought of seeing her again, touching her again. True, they hadn't really talked since that night, but there was something there. Something special. Something defining.

"Morgan," the word almost caught in his throat. She heard him and turned toward the sound of his voice. Almost giddy, he rushed in her direction, stopping cold when he finally saw her, all of her. Just below her angelic face, Greg could see that she was pregnant. Very pregnant.

He felt like he had been punched in the gut. She saw him now. Smiling, she walked towards him, but she wouldn't meet his eyes. Her hands covered her protruding belly, instinctively protective.

"Oh my gosh, Greg! You're back!" She pulled him into an awkward and uncomfortable hug.

"And you're pregnant!" he blurted out, still astonished. Morgan blushed and tucked a fallen strand of hair behind her ear.

"Yeah, it's a long story. I'd rather not talk about it right now. Tell me all about what you've been up to. What was it like working with the FBI?" she diverted.

Greg felt like he was underwater. All he heard was garbled noise when she spoke, all his attention on her current physical state. "So you have a boyfriend, huh? Or a husband? He must be some lucky guy." The pain drowned his words, although he tried to come across more breezy.

"No, it's not like that. Look, I'd rather not talk about it," Morgan's gaze grew distant, and Greg could see her eyes starting to water.

"Morgan, I'm sorry. If it was something I said…" he reached for her, but she stepped back.

"Oh, look at the time. Sorry, I have to go to an autopsy, but we should catch up later. Give me a call." She walked away, hurrying around the corner before Greg could speak.

* * *

"How come no one told me?" he asked Sara, trying to bite back the anger.

"Honestly, Morgan really never told us much. Just that she was pregnant, it was from a one night stand, and she was keeping the baby." Sara handed Greg a cup of coffee as she sat next to him at the break room table.

Greg felt the bile rising in his throat. He had been so busy and tired. So overworked. He had thought of calling her a million times, but it never seemed to be the right time. And now…well obviously she had run into the arms of another guy after he had unintentionally rejected her. Shit. This was all his fault.

"Well someone should have called me. I thought we were all friends here." He grimaced at the bitter taste of the stale coffee.

"Friendship's a two way street. I don't believe any of us got many messages from you either." Sara sipped on her cup, arching a eyebrow.

"Okay, you've got a point. I just wish I had known." Sara gave him a pitying look and a pat on the back.

"Greg, there is nothing you could have done then that you can't do now," she told him. He looked at her, nodding as he contemplated his next move.

* * *

Morgan peeked behind the door, swinging it open when she saw Greg standing slumped in front of her, his hands tucked into his pockets.

"Greg! What are you doing-" she started.

"Hey, can I come in?" He glanced up at her, big sad brown eyes greeting her.

"Sure," she sighed, stepping back as he entered her place.

"Morgan, I'm sorry. I've been a complete ass. I should have called you. I should have told you how I felt. But I didn't and now you're having some other man's baby," he choked on the words. "I want to make it up to you. I want to be there for you and help you raise your baby. I want to be with you, Morgan."

Morgan covered her mouth with her hands, letting the tears fall down her cheeks. Without speaking, she threw her arms around his neck and held him. "I thought you weren't going to come back. I thought you had moved on, that you had a new life that didn't include me."

Greg closed his eyes as he rested his forehead against hers. He didn't want to hear any more. It was too hard. He had caused her so much pain. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes.

"Greg, I wanted to tell you about the baby, but I wasn't sure how you would take it at first. And then it seemed like too much time had passed. I should have told you. You of all people deserved to know. I'm so sorry." Her voice became a whisper. "Please don't hate me."

Greg stiffened as her words sank in. "Wait," he inched back, "Morgan, is this my baby?" His hand rested on her large bump.

Morgan stared at him. She bit her lip and then nodded.

Greg stumbled back, shocked. "Wait, I'm going to be a dad?"

Morgan took his hands in hers. "To a little girl." She placed his hands back on her belly. The baby shifted, kicking them both as she repositioned. "I was thinking of naming her Avery."

"Avery," Greg repeated, distracted by the awe of feeling his daughter move inside Morgan. "Avery Sanders. It's perfect."

Greg wrapped his arms around Morgan and kissed her, grinning.

"Next time, you don't have to go all out on my homecoming gift," he said, still grinning.

"Next time, I'm going with you. We both are." Morgan answered, kissing him once again.

 **Three Months Later…**

DNA had always fascinated Greg. How no two individual sequences were alike. Each unique in its own way yet still carrying remnants of the traits from the strands that had combined together to produce it. Like how his daughter's eyes were a beautiful amber-green, matching neither his brown nor her mother's blue. Or how when she slept, pursing her lips as she dreamed, he couldn't help but see Morgan who had the same habit.

"You're a natural." He looked up to find Morgan leaning against the doorway to the nursery. He shifted in the rocking chair, switching his sleeping child from one cradling arm to the other.

He smiled. "She makes it easy."

Morgan walked into the room, kneeling down beside them. "She's definitely a daddy's girl."

"Maybe so, but thank God she got her mother's looks," he said. Morgan met his gaze, smiling.

"Such a sweet talker. You better watch it or you'll set the bar so high no other man will ever be good enough for her."

"One can hope." He smirked.

Watching her take the small infant from his arms, Greg couldn't help but be grateful for one unforgettable night that had given him a life he'd always hoped for.

 **Alright, next time I'll upload two different one-shots…one being Guest's request. I'll try to do it justice. Thanks for reading and indulging my ridiculous need to write fanfic.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Guest's Request- Greg and Morgan get into an accident. However, the only way to save Greg is if Morgan cuts off his leg, arm, or hand**

Marilyn Manson blared from the radio.

"Um, no," said Morgan turning the dial to a Top 40s station. "If you demand to drive, I get to command the radio. By the way, you're almost forty, not some angsty nineteen year old."

"Ouch," Greg replied. " And what do you think keeps me so young at heart?" He smirked turning left at the light.

"Oh, is that what does it? I thought it was the pleasant company of your co-workers." Morgan smiled turning to look out the window. Her cheerful demeanor quickly dissolved.

"Greg, watch out!" she screamed, bracing her hand against the inside of the door as a semi barreled towards them. As the vehicle careened closer, Morgan noticed that the driver of the truck looked slumped over, like he was unconscious. Greg swerved, missing the eighteen wheeler by mere feet. He tried rotating the steering wheel to correct the direction of their course, but it locked on him, taking on a mind of its own.

"Shit!" He tried moving it again, this time jerking so hard that it sent the car into a tailspin. Screeching tires foreshadowed the collision as a Ford Mustang slammed into the driver's side of the SUV.

Morgan heard screams but didn't recognize them as her own until she started hyperventilating, feeling the crushing weight of the console digging into her hip as she stared straight ahead, seeing but not yet comprehending the shattered glass on the crumpled dashboard and what it represented.

She took a breath and then another, trying to calm down, trying to remember her trauma training from years ago. Looking down, she saw him, blood soaking his hair and running down the side of his face. His eyes were closed, his body strewn haphazardly over the console. Her breathing increased, panic rising up in her.

"Greg? Greg?" She ran a shaky hand over his crimson stained cheek. Fear gripped her when he didn't move. "Greg!" Her voice became louder, more distressed. She heard a faint groan escape his lips, and then felt movement as his head shifted in a failing attempt to sit up.

"Morgan…" His voice was soft, trailing off. She felt a liquid dampening her cheek, not sure if it was blood, sweat, or tears. Not sure there was even a difference between any of it right now.

"Greg, talk to me. Are you okay? Can you breathe? Can you move?"

"I can't move my leg. Does it look broken?" he breathed, trying to pull forward, closer to Morgan.

She looked over at the driver's side now, the knots in her stomach turning to slush that she felt rising up her throat as she surveyed the scene. The driver's side was almost totally collapsed in. Blood dripped from the now angled roof, and Morgan could see Greg's left leg, sending the bile into her mouth. Right below the knee, the frame of door was slicing into it, almost completely through it, crushing the bottom of his leg and pinning him in place.

She swallowed. The disgusting spew burned her throat on the way down. "Greg," she tried speaking calmly but she could hear the tremble in her voice, "your leg is… not in good shape. I think they are going to have to cut you out of here."

She watched him wince, fighting back the pain and probably whatever fear came with her words. He opened his mouth to speak when a loud sound followed by what felt like the aftershock of a small earthquake silenced him, freezing them both.

"What was that?" Morgan asked searching for the source. Smoke began billowing into the small space from the side of the collision. Small wisps at first, settling like fog until the air became thick with it. They heard the crackle of flames and the groans of the Mustang's metal giving way to the heat.

"We have to get out of here," Greg coughed and covered his face with his shirt. "Everything is about to blow, including us if we're not already dead from smoke inhalation."

Morgan slammed her shoulder against the passenger door, inching it open to let out the smoke. They could climb out. They would be okay. The opening was just wide enough to squeeze through, except…It hit her then, hard. Except Greg's leg was trapped. He was stuck in the Denali turned deathtrap. The only way to free him was to completely sever the bottom of his left leg. Morgan shivered violently at the thought of it. Another loud explosion coming from the Mustang stopped her. Shit. She had no other choice.

She unbuckled and climbed clumsily to what was left of the other side of the car. She gasped feeling the bruises and painful aches with each move she made. "Greg," she spoke slowly, "I'm going to have to cut off your leg."

A sob racked her as she rested her hand on the shriveling appendage that was turning black beneath the cut. The smoke was stronger here. It spilled into the fabric of the flimsy shirt she held over her mouth. She was becoming dizzy. She would have to work quickly or this whole thing would be useless. Her eyes began to water. She reached over Greg, behind the seat for one of their kits. Finding one, she opened it and pulled out a small bone saw, staring in horror as she contemplated what she had to do.

She placed the saw inside the cut, hitting the core of the bone. Greg cried out. It was the worst sound she had ever heard, and she knew it was only the beginning. The crunch of metal meeting bone pierced her ears even deeper. Sickness rose in her again but she fought it, focusing on the task at hand. Smoke clouded her vision, and the heat of the fire growing stronger on the other side of the crushed door drained her of what little energy and strength she had. The taste of melting sweat fell into her mouth. She felt faint, on the verge of collapsing. It was horrible. But nothing compared to the horror of Greg's blood flowing wildly over her hands as she worked.

When she finished tying a tourniquet, she looked at Greg and called out to him. But the pain had been too much, he passed out from the agony. She fought her own weakness, pushing through the soreness that ripped through her as she dragged his mangled body from the wreckage. They had just inched a safe distance away when the site of the crash exploded in flames and sparks.

Morgan coughed uncontrollably, hearing the sirens in the background as she laid next to Greg who was growing paler as his breathing grew shallower. The flashing blue and red lights illuminating his blood-caked face was the last thing she remembered seeing before everything faded to black.

 **Three months later…**

Morgan hesitated at the door. He was sitting facing the window again. His slumped shoulders told her nothing had changed, and the shadow falling over him from the fading sunlight gave him an ominous appearance. Cautiously, she made her way to him.

"Greg?" She placed her hand on his shoulder, removing it when she felt him flinch. "How are you doing? You look good. Great in fact." She paused. He didn't speak. He didn't turn his head. He didn't acknowledge her presence, just like before.

"Greg, please just talk to me." Her voice wobbled as she cleared away the tears.

"What do you want me to say, Morgan?" His speech came out monotone, no hint of feeling or emotion behind it. "How do I feel for a guy who can't walk anymore? Who feels haunted by a part of him that no longer exists? I'm swell. Just dandy." He scoffed, never moving to face her.

"Greg, you would have died. I had no choice. I had no choice…" Her voice faded out.

"Maybe you should have let me."

She gasped, stunned by his callousness. This was not the man she knew, the man she thought she loved. Bitterness had evaded his soul, transforming him into someone she didn't recognize. She would have given anything to go back in time. To the moments right before they had embarked on the deadly route to this dismal destiny. To when Greg was this fun loving guy who flirted with her and teased her mercilessly. What she wouldn't give to have a lighthearted exchange like they used to.

She walked in front of him, blocking his view of the window, forcing him to look at her. She knelt in front of the wheelchair.

 **"** You are more than just your leg, Greg. You are more than what you have let yourself become. You are such a great guy. I miss you. I miss the way you always made me smile, the stories you used to tell, and even the way you would bicker with Hodges. Please don't give up on who you are."

His eyes went downcast to avoid looking into hers. "You don't get it and you never will. You may have cut off my leg, Morgan, but you don't have to live with the consequences."

She wanted to shake him and scream at him. Tell him that, oh, she knew all about the consequences. Knew them very well, and that he had no idea what it was like to watch someone you care about wither away. Instead, she took his hand in hers and rubbed it reassuringly, sighing.

"I should go." She stood a moment longer, as he stared at his lap, making no attempt to get her to stay. He heard her walk out of the room, and silently cringed when he heard the door shut. What good were her affirmations when he knew deep down that she would never love him back the way he loved her? Not now that he was…handicapped? Crippled? Broken? That was it. Now that he was broken. Irreparably broken.

* * *

The others came to visit him, receiving the same treatment as Morgan. Nick joked, cursed, and pleaded with him. Sara lectured, frustrated by his non-responsive state. Russell told him stories as he stared out the window, watching other people living their lives. Catherine, like Henry and Hodges, pitied him, and their visits were probably the worst of all.

"You do realize that not having your leg is not the end of the world." The voice was familiar, although he couldn't place it. Anger boiled in him.

"What the hell do you know…" His voice trailed off as he swung the wheelchair around coming face to face with Doc Robbins.

"A good bit in fact. Probably more than you can even imagine." The coroner sat in the chair across from Greg.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I'm just-"

"Angry? I'm been there. I wasted years on that particular emotion,"the doctor spoke, looking at Greg as an equal. It was the first time Greg felt something other than sorrow from a visitor. "I was eighteen when my own small world came crashing down. Barely an adult and, in many ways, still just a boy pretending poorly to be a man. Greg, it wasn't until I realized that, despite what I lost, the best parts of me still existed that I was able to enjoy life again. I wondered if a woman would ever love me, but then I met Judy and the question became trivial. You already have so many that care about you and so much to live for. Don't sit here decaying when you have been given a second chance."

Greg hung his head and then turned his focus once more to the window as he spoke. "I want to, but I feel like there's this wall now between me and the rest of the world."

"That's only because you built one, and you are going to have to tear it down, brick by brick. It's not going to be easy, but there will be a day when you will forget for a moment and then for an hour and then, one day, it will be a new normal that you hardly notice. But if you don't start now, you will lose those who matter the most. One in particular who I know loves you so much she would risk life and limb, literally." The doctor was standing by him now. His hand gripped Greg's shoulder as he gave it a squeeze and then a pat. "Talk to her."

Greg nodded. He knew what he had to do.

* * *

She was surprised to find him on her doorstep, looking sheepish and embarrassed.

"Greg, is everything okay? What's going on?" she asked helping him wheel into her house.

"Morgan, I'm sorry. I've been a jerk to you, well to everyone actually. I owe you so much more than a crappy attitude. I mean, you did save my life and all. And where would I be without the pleasant company of my favorite co-worker?" He smirked, and Morgan felt the weight lifting from her heart. "Can you ever forgive me?"

"Of course." She smiled and leaned down to hug him. Taking advantage, he grabbed her and pulled her onto his lap when she tilted towards him.

"Greg!" she squealed, shocked by his boldness. He silenced her, pressing his lips against hers, a gentle kiss that grew passionate. When the kiss broke, she sat, staring at him, stunned.

"I love you, Morgan," he whispered. She circled her arms around his neck and brought him once again to her lips, returning the kiss.

"I love you too, Greg." She rested her head on his chest listening to his heartbeat. "I'm so glad you're okay."

He kissed her forehead. "Me too."


	7. Chapter 7

**The Blind Date- Morgan and Greg get set up on a blind date with each other.**

Morgan fidgeted with the clasp on her necklace while scrutinizing her appearance in the vanity mirror. She looked up at the reflection of her friend, Mara, sitting behind her on the bed putting on the finishing touches of her fingernail polish.

"So what all does Jake know about this guy again?" Morgan asked. Mara had finally coaxed her into going on a blind date, disguised as a double date, with Mara's husband's old college roommate.

"Well, he's a scientist, like you. He's funny, tall, and really cute. Jake introduced me to him last month after they reconnected at some conference." Mara blew on her nails, drying them. "The instance I met him I thought now there's a guy for Morgan."

"Geez, thanks," Morgan rolled her eyes as she dabbed on perfume. "You know, I am perfectly capable of finding dates on my own, thank you very much. Not that I don't appreciate the sentiment. I just don't want this fixing me up with strange men thing to become a habit."

"Please! Morgan, when was the last time you actually went on a date?" Morgan's silent yet thoughtful expression answered her. Mara smirked and examined her new manicure. "I do love this color. Where did you get it again? Because I might just have to steal it."

Morgan walked over to her and snatched the small nail polish bottle out of her hands. "Don't even think about it. It was a gift from someone…special, and it's my favorite." Morgan smiled remembering last year's office Christmas party. "Besides, whenever you borrow something, I never see it again. So hands off."

"Whatever," Mara responded, grabbing her phone to check the time. "Well, we better get going or Jake is going to throw a fit. He hates when I'm fashionably late."

"Which is always," Morgan remarked, picking up her purse. She took a deep breath and smoothed out her dress."So how do I look?"

"Like his dream come true. Now come on or we're going to be late."

* * *

Mara and Morgan hurried into the crowded restaurant surveying the occupied tables for their dates.

"What did you say his name was again?" Morgan asked, looking around. Mara spotted her husband and waved as they walked in that direction.

"His name is- "

"Greg!" Morgan cut her off staring at her handsome co-worker who was seated in front of her. Greg looked up at her, surprised.

"Morgan! What are you doing here?" he asked incredulously. "Are you my date?" Morgan shifted awkwardly on her heels before moving to sit next to him in the booth.

"Apparently so," she smiled shyly. Mara's gaze moved between them, her eyebrows raising.

"You two know each other?" she asked, sliding in next to her husband at the table.

Greg and Morgan exchanged a brief glance. "Yeah, we work together," Greg said and then cleared his throat.

Mara nudged Jake and gave an obviously uncomfortable Morgan a quick wink. "Am I matchmaker or what?"

Morgan shot her a small scowl. "So what's good here?" she asked, staring at the menu but not really looking as all her focus was on Greg's arm pressed up against hers.

"I was thinking about the pasta platter, but it's too much for one person. Do you want to split it?" Greg asked her.

"Sure." Morgan's eyes lingered on him a little longer than usual, catching Mara's attention.

"So how long have you two worked together?" Mara asked, smirking as she held Morgan's gaze.

"A few years now," Morgan answered, turning away.

"Glad this isn't awkward then. Greg was scared I had set him up with some desperate crazy friend of Mara's." Jake laughed.

"Um…geez, thanks Jake." Morgan rolled her eyes, laughing. "Although, knowing Mara, I can see why he'd think that."

"What are you two talking about? How I'm so interesting? Or entertaining?" Mara responded. Jake kissed her on the cheek.

"I think the word you're looking for is eccentric. Speaking of which, did you get your nails done again? That's the third time in two weeks. Mara, we talked about this," he lightly scolded.

"Relax, I just borrowed some polish from Morgan. Couldn't pass up the opportunity to change my style."

"Oh, of course. Well at least it isn't that horrid neon green," Jake teased, making a face. Mara playfully hit him on the shoulder.

"Actually, Greg gave me that nail polish for Christmas last year," Morgan said. "Weird, right?" Greg smiled.

"I'm terrible with gifts. I'm surprised you still have it," he said looking at Morgan.

"Are you kidding? I love it. It's my favorite color. You're great with gifts. Puns, however, are another story." Greg laughed, remembering the inscription on the gift.

"Okay, I'll give you that," he said. She smiled back and then turned to Mara who was staring at her oddly.

"Excuse me. I'm going to go to the ladies' room." Mara kicked Morgan in the shin under the table. Morgan gasped in pain and frowned, watching Mara signal to her with a nod of the head.

"Me too," she replied, rubbing her hurt leg as she stood. Mara quickly grabbed her by the arm and led her away.

"So he's the someone special, huh?" she smirked, glancing over her shoulder at Greg before turning back to Morgan.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Morgan blushed and hurried into the bathroom, hoping to end the conversation.

"Oh my God! You like him. I just set you up with your office crush. Oh, do you owe me big!" Mara squealed as they stopped in front of the sinks.

"Shhh!" Morgan looked around and then shook her head. "Fine. I like him. A lot." Her expression turned solemn. "Please don't say anything, Mara. I'm serious. I would be so embarrassed if he found out."

Mara cocked her head, smiling as she surveyed her nervous friend. "What makes you think the feeling isn't mutual?"

A shy smile crept on Morgan's lips as she fluffed her hair, checking out her reflection. "If it was, I don't think I would have been free for a blind date on a Saturday night."

Mara scooted closer to her as more women crowded in the restroom. "Well, maybe tonight's the night you win him over," she whispered to Morgan, who faced her now with a look of surprise.

* * *

When they returned to their seats, their drinks had arrived. A sweet glass of red wine awaited her. Morgan drank it quickly, calming her nerves. Not that she needed to worry. The conversation flowed smoothly throughout the rest of dinner. She and Mara laughed as Jake and Greg hassled each other about the true version of their old college stories. Then the ladies regaled them with their own cringeworthy stories of childhood antics and bad dates they had endured together over the years.

Mara had grown up next door to Morgan until Morgan's parents' divorce drove her and her mother away to California. They ended up going to college together, eventually both of them moving back to Vegas.

Greg laughed as Mara told them about the time she and Morgan accepted a dare to go skinny-dipping, it backfiring horribly when the cops arrived to break up the party.

"You should have see her dad's face when he came to pick us up from the station. He always thought I was a bad influence on you." Mara grinned. Morgan groaned.

"You can't blame him. We did get in trouble a lot together." She tensed, feeling Greg's arm drape over her shoulder.

"Well, who's to say you weren't the bad influence?" Mara cocked an eyebrow and a smile.

"Impossible," Greg chimed in. "Morgan Brody breaking the law? I refuse to believe it." He smirked, pulling her closer.

"Well, she was Morgan Ecklie then. She had to change her name to escape prosecution." Mara toasted Morgan with her own glass of Cabernet. "To our troubled teen years."

Morgan raised her glass, now her third, and tinged it against Mara's. Her slower reaction time coupled with her unsteady hand caused the drink to slosh out of the glass and onto Greg.

"Oh my God! Greg! I'm so sorry." She grabbed a napkin and started dabbing his stained dress pants. "I'm usually not this clumsy." She blushed as she concentrated on rubbing the spot on his thigh. "I don't know what has gotten into me. Probably too much wine-" She stopped abruptly hearing Mara clear her throat, loudly and intentionally.

Morgan looked up, sending a questioning look Mara's way, who in turn motioned towards Greg. Morgan turned to him now, realizing he was staring at her, red color flushing his cheeks.

"Greg? Are you okay?" She asked concerned. He coughed and looked down. Morgan followed his gaze, realizing her hand was still on his thigh, causing him to become obviously aroused. "Oh," she breathed, withdrawing her hand and her gaze.

They were all silent a moment more before Jake and Mara burst into laughter.

"That's how Mara snagged me too," Jake laughed, nudging his wife. Greg smiled, avoiding eye contact with Morgan. "How about we grab the check and then go catch a movie?" Jake motioned for the bill.

"Actually, I think I'd rather go home and change into some dry clothes. But thanks all the same," Greg said. "Morgan, can you give me a ride?"

"Huh? Um…sure," she said, coming out of her daze. Mara winked at her as she and Greg left the booth heading for the exit. Her phone buzzed as they made their way to her car. Checking her text messages, she saw she had one from Mara: _I want details! Call me later._

"Ready to go?" Greg broke her concentration.

"Yeah," she said, tossing him the keys and climbing into the passenger's seat. Ready as I'll ever be, she thought.

* * *

They parked outside his apartment complex.

"Thanks for tonight. I know it was kind of awkward and I'm so sorry about your pants," Morgan smiled, blushing again.

"Are you really sorry? Are you sure it wasn't just your clever plan to get us all alone?" He grinned, looking at her.

"Damn, you figured out my evil plan to seduce you," she laughed, it coming across more nervous than she intended.

Greg leaned over and kissed her, tasting the wine on her tongue. They pulled apart slowly, almost dreamily.

"Well, who am I to thwart such a well devised plan? Just wish I had thought of it first." He kissed her scarlet-flushed cheek, moving his lips to her ear. "You want to come up?"

She looked up, staring into his dark mischievous eyes, and nodded.

 **One year later…**

"Okay, how do I look?" Morgan turned from the vanity to face Mara who looked at her with tears brimming her eyes.

"You're the most beautiful bride I've ever seen. Greg is going to be beside himself when he sees you." Mara brushed the back of the veil behind her best friend's shoulder.

Morgan laughed. "You are so dramatic." She adjusted the top of her strapless dress.

"Oh really? So now I'm eccentric and dramatic? And we're best friends because…" Mara smirked.

"Because you're also interesting and entertaining and-"

"And set you up with the man of your dreams." She raised an eyebrow.

Morgan smiled. "That too." They hugged, stopped by a knock on the door. Morgan's dad entered, taking in the sight of his daughter.

"M, you ready to go?" He held out his arm to her.

"Ready as I'll ever be," she said, still smiling as she made her way to join her dad, thinking about how in a matter of minutes she would soon be Morgan Sanders.


	8. Chapter 8

**Friends with Benefits- title says it all (some smut)**

Neither one of them could clearly remember how their weekly movie nights started. Greg thought it was when Morgan found a Blu-Ray copy of The Usual Suspects, her favorite, among the rest of the discarded mail on his desk, pressuring him to play it as soon as their shift ended. Morgan swore it was when Greg walked in on her during her lunch break while she caught the tail-end of The Shining on her laptop, scaring her half to death and literally causing her to lose her lunch as her sandwich flew up in the air when she jumped, only to rain back down on her seconds later. Either way, it had become their Thursday night tradition to get together after work and indulge in their affinity for old movies.

Tonight was at Greg's place. He provided the venue and the snacks while she brought the movie. Usually it was an old crime, action, or horror movie they watched, but Morgan ventured outside their normal genre selection tonight, picking the romantic comedy When Harry Met Sally.

Greg looked at the movie box and then back to Morgan, cocking an eyebrow.

"Really? Morgan, I'm not really a romance movie kind of guy," he said handing her back the movie. She slipped the disc into the player and flipped to right screen with the remote.

"Come on now. We have spent the last month watching nothing but slasher movies. That coupled with the fact with we deal with real life horror for work on a daily basis has been just a little too much bloodshed for me. It will be fun. A nice break from the norm." She sat beside him on the couch and stole the big bowl of popcorn from his hands.

"If you say so. I guess one night won't hurt. But I'm picking next week's selection, so expect gore." He snatched the bowl back as Morgan rolled her eyes, popping a few kernels in her mouth.

"I wouldn't expect anything less," she said. The movie started and about three fourths of the way through it, despite his earlier claim, Greg was sitting up, leaning in, laughing at parts, and obviously enjoying the show.

When the movie ended, Morgan moved to clean up, clearing away the scattered popcorn that had found its way onto the floor.

"Do you believe that?" Greg asked as she dropped the crunched kernels into the now empty bowl.

"Believe what?"

"That men and women can never really be friends. That sex always gets in the way." Morgan turned to look at him now.

"Well I guess that depends. Do you find me attractive?" She smiled as he squirmed, an embarrassed grin crossing his face.

"Well, I don't find you unattractive," he answered. "What about you? Do you find me attractive?" He wagged his eyebrows mischievously making Morgan laugh.

"Well not when you do that, but on a whole, yeah, I find you fairly attractive."

"So are we really friends or are we doomed because we just want to have sex with each other?" Greg laughed, the sound dying with one glance at Morgan's shocked expression. "Sorry," he coughed, his voice barely above a whisper.

"What are you saying, Greg Sanders? That you want to be friends with benefits?" Her sly smirk returned catching him off guard.

"Are you saying that's an option?" Greg was now the one who was stunned watching the beautiful blonde scoot closer towards him, her lips just inches from his own, her sweet breath hot on his mouth when she spoke.

"Anything is possible,"she teased. His lips met hers as he placed his hands on her hips, drawing all of her closer to him.

Her top hit the floor first, followed shortly by Greg's shirt. His and her pants joined them next, lacy undergarments and cotton boxers soon keeping them company. A square wrapper, ripped, fluttered onto the heap.

Greg laid her gently against the cushions of the couch as he inched his way down her body. Her breasts reminded him of peaches, soft and peachy pink and sweet to the taste. She moaned, arching into him with each stroke of his tongue. She curled her fingers around him and guided him in, connecting them together. Her hands found their way up his back. With each unified movement between them, she clung tighter to him, digging her manicured nails into the faded scars on his back.

It was over before half an hour had past, but it felt like it had been lying in wait for years, the moment greater than the minutes as they stared into each other's eyes taking in what had just occurred.

They moved to dress, Greg filling in the awkward silence.

"So, I guess that will be a Thursday night tradition too." He glanced over at her from the corner of his eye.

Morgan smiled, buttoning up her pants. She leaned over and brushed a kiss against his lips.

"Same time, my place?"

* * *

The next week went along the same lines, including the promised gory flick. The week after, they began their amorous activities before the final credits rolled. The following week, they made it only half way through the movie, and the week that followed that one, the disc never made it in the player.

They kept a low profile at work, each telling themselves that it was nothing more than sex, neither's hearts truly believing it. And then one night, everything came crashing down.

* * *

"I can't do movie night tomorrow, Greg. I have plans." Morgan avoided his gaze as she stared at the report in front of her, pretending to read. Greg's cheerful expression fell.

"Oh, no big deal. There's always next week. What are you doing instead?" He tried to act nonchalant, studying another report on the table.

"I have a date." She cautiously looked up to find him staring at her, his jaw clenched. She sighed. "My dad's friend's son. It was a set-up. I didn't really have a choice. I owed him for when he helped me out with the whole Hodges' fake dating fiasco."

"Why didn't you just tell him you had a boyfriend?" Anger clipped his voice.

"Because I don't. Do I?" Morgan hedged, watching him. He shook his head and slammed the file on the table.

"Damn it, Morgan! You know I care about you. These past couple of weeks meant something to me. You can't go out with this guy."

"Greg, you never said anything before. And you don't control me. If you want to go out with me, ask me out on a real date," Morgan huffed, irritated. She glared at him, challenging him. He met her gaze with his own icy one.

"Fine. Let's see how you like it when I take out some other girl." He stormed out of the room and slammed the door, leaving Morgan staring at him, her mouth forming an O.

* * *

Morgan fumed in the break room. She stirred the cream in her coffee, vigorously, almost angrily. Who did he think he was? Actually, who did he think she was? Some girl that would just sit around waiting for him to finally make the next move? Did he really think that she would settle for a movie and sex once a week as a relationship? But she couldn't really blame him, because that was exactly what she had settled for. She needed to talk to him and clear things up. She had just come to this decision when she heard Henry and Hodges entering the room.

"I still can't believe he asked her out. Oh hi, Morgan" Henry nodded to her as the two of them made their way to the fridge.

"I still can't believe she said yes. I mean, look at her. She could be a supermodel," Hodges retorted peering into the fridge on the hunt for food.

"What are you two talking about?" Morgan asked intrigued.

Henry walked over to her. "Greg asked out the new receptionist. She is so fine." He planted himself in the seat across from her.

"What?" she startled, he eyes growing wide.

"Lucky bastard. You know if I had gotten the chance to ask her first, Sanders wouldn't have stood a chance." With a burger in hand, Hodges sat next to Henry. Morgan felt her heart drop.

"Excuse me," she mumbled, leaving the table. She paused outside the door to wipe away her tears. What the hell had she done?

* * *

He stared at his reflection. He had no desire to go out tonight. All he would be thinking about was Morgan anyway, nestling up against another guy. He cringed and took a deep breath trying to settle the churning of his stomach at the thought. The sound of the doorbell drew his attention momentarily away from his aching heart.

Serena would be expecting him in an hour. Not that he was thrilled about it. Opening the door, he hoped this wouldn't take long.

"Morgan!" he smiled seeing the nervous blonde standing on his doorstep, a movie box in her hand and glistening drops filling her aqua eyes.

"Greg, I know you have plans for tonight, but I just thought…actually I was hoping that maybe you could change them. You know, in honor of movie night?" Her eyes pleaded with him. His expression turned solemn.

"That depends. Do you have a boyfriend?" he asked, gauging her reaction.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" she shot back, her eyebrows arching.

"Only if you'll have me." His smile returned as he leaned down to kiss her. She threw her arms around his neck and laughed as his lips tickled hers.

"Absolutely. Every night of the week, especially Thursdays."


	9. Chapter 9

**The Hangover- one of two parts**

Morgan left her sun shades on as she made her way into the locker room. Her eyes were puffy and still a little bleary and bloodshot. She sat on the bench, fishing in her purse for an aspirin to combat her pounding headache, when the sound of a slamming locker startled her, making her cringe as the noise vibrated against the back of her skull.

"Hey, Morgan, you okay? You don't look too good." Her supervisor's voice broke through the buzz still ringing in her ear.

"I'm fine." Her own hoarse voice betrayed her. Russell stared at her a moment longer before shrugging and speaking again.

"Good. There a 419 in Henderson I need you to work." Morgan groaned slightly, just imagining the wonders the smell of decomp would do for her hangover.

"Okay," she mumbled, taking the file from his hands.

"Great. See if boyfriend Greg can join you on this one. I have Sara already working a case over at The Palmero," Russell teased heading for the door. Morgan froze, her skin prickling in goosebumps at just the thought of seeing him. She watched her supervisor saunter out of the locker room, completely unaware of the effect his words had on her. But how could he possibly know? She was still processing it herself, reeling from it actually. It had only happened just a few hours ago. Except Greg wasn't her boyfriend. No, he had gone from friendly coworker to husband in just under twelve hours.

Her rapid breathing increased, on the verge of hyperventilating and total meltdown as she buried her face in her hands. What the hell had they done?

 **Twelve Hours Earlier…**

"Damn it!" Morgan hit the top of the steering wheel with the edge of her palm as the engine sputtered and died again. It had already been a long night with a triple homicide happening not more than three blocks away. This was the last thing she needed. Morgan tried the key a third time, nothing changing.

She slammed the door and walked to the front of the car, popping the hood.

"Problem?" His voice startled her, causing her to jump. She turned to face him.

"God, Greg, you scared me," she placed a hand on her chest to calm her frantic heartbeat. "My car won't start." She turned back to the exposed engine. "I just want to go home." She surveyed the complex machinery laid out before her, sighing. Greg moved to stand beside her and leaned down to get a closer look.

Morgan crossed her arms over her chest feeling a sudden chill sweep through.

"Looks like your starter is fried." Greg glanced up, feeling drops of rain falling sporadic on his head. Dropping the hood, he turned his attention to Morgan as the rain grew heavier. "Get your stuff and hop in my car. I'll give you a ride home."

They raced, huddled together under Morgan's umbrella, to his black Nissan.

"Thanks," she said shaking the water from her ends of her hair. "Ugh, I guess the best thing I can say about tonight is at least it's over." She leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes.

Greg smirked, looking over at her from the corner of his eye. "You never know. Your night could still pick up. I mean, you were just rescued by a fairly handsome fellow. Maybe it's already turning around."

Morgan smiled, shaking her head. "You are the optimist. Okay, Prince Charming, how are you going to salvage my bad day?"

Greg studied the landmarks flashing in his windshield between the wiper blades. Gunnery's Bar caught his eye. "How about an ice cold beer on me?"

"Well, I'm not going to turn down free alcohol. Sounds like a plan."

* * *

The bar was practically deserted, the only other patron being a older gentlemen sitting on a barstool sipping a scotch. They found a booth near the back of the dimly lit place.

"Thanks again," Morgan said after they ordered. "I really needed this." The bartender sat down their drinks.

"Any time," Greg said picking up his. "To damsels in distress." He raised his glass to her.

Morgan followed suit. "And to those who buy them beer."

"I'll drink to that," Greg said taking a swig. He looked around the room. "It's kind of dead in here."

Morgan gave a small chuckle. "Yeah, it reminds me of my love life." She finished her beer and signaled for another.

"Sounds like you're having more than just a bad day." Morgan shot him a scowl.

"Well, I don't see you checking up on your girlfriend, so maybe I'm not the only one going through a dry spell," she quipped.

Greg smiled, nodding. "Fair enough. Well, I guess if we're going to be lonely, at least we can be lonely together."

"There's that optimism again. How are you always so upbeat? Doesn't it ever get to you?" She downed the second beer, the warmth of it swimming through her.

"Does what get to me?" Greg watched her, sipping on his second round.

"Life. All the death, destruction, and heart ache. All the inconveniences that just pile on. Sometimes, I just want to throw everything to the wind and stop acting so responsible. You know, just have one night where I just let it all go and do whatever I want without a care in the world."

"Morgan Brody, the wild child. I heard cops' kids could be crazier than most, but I never thought it would apply to you." He smirked, staring at her, mischievously raising an eyebrow.

"Well, are you going to judge me or join me?" She gave him an impish grin.

"What did you have in mind?"

* * *

She felt something move against her. A hand glided across her bare waist, making her eyes shoot open. The dark room looked familiar but she couldn't place where she had seen it before. Books were stacked on the nightstand next to the bed, and the red numbers on the clock glowed bright against the darkness, signaling the time was edging into later afternoon. Morgan attempted to steady her breathing as she tried desperately to figure out where she was. A blackout shade covered the window. Men's clothes were scattered on the floor, creating a trail to the bathroom. The foreign hand resting on her stomach pulled on her, making her gasp. Slowly, she turned, trying not to disturb whoever was lying next to her.

She stared at him. His eyes were still closed, and despite the strong jaw line and shadow of stubble, he gave off a innocent boyish appearance. She ran a hesitant finger down the side of Greg's face, checking to see if it was real or a dream. Her head pounded and her thoughts swam as she tried to remember what had happened.

Images started to come back to her. First in snippets and then like a faded film, with a haze filtering the borders. Them at a bar, laughing and drinking, followed by another image of them at a casino. She was jumping up and down, hugging him as a pile of chips were pushed towards them at a roulette table. Then she remembered the sight of a bright neon heart, knowing exactly where it was from: a cheesy wedding chapel she had processed a robbery at a few months back. Shit. They didn't, did they?

The red light from the clock bounced off of something on her finger. She saw it then, scrabbling to sit up as she stared at it. Her breath hitched. A small diamond ring rested on her left hand. Apparently, they had.

Gently, she lifted Greg's arm off of her, pausing in panic as he rolled away from her. She listened for his soft snores as she gathered her clothes and quickly dressed.

Her head was spinning while she waited for the cab, sitting on Greg's doorstep. What was she going to do? More importantly, what was he going to do when he realized what they had done?

 **I'll publish part two later this week. Thanks for all the reviews! I love them and appreciate you taking the time. : )**


	10. Chapter 10

**The Hangover- Part 2 (yes, there is smut. You've been warned.)**

Her moans still played in his ears. _Oh God! Yes! God, Greg!_ The words breathed loudly and rushed, like a desperate prayer of gratitude. She had no idea what the sound had done to him. Or how the way her smooth thigh grazing against his cheek ignited the already kindling fire in his loins. She had bucked wildly against his mouth as she orgasmed, driving his tongue further against her and causing his erection to become painfully stiff.

He pulled away, repositioning himself on top on her. Staring into her gorgeous blue eyes, he slid into her, the sight and sound of her gasping making him thrust deeper. Balancing on hands that were gripping the bed on either side of her, he began stroking into her a slow soft rhythm, steadily increasing into a climatic state as she joined him, moving in sync with his body. He was on verge of climaxing when the sound of the alarm buzzed, waking him rudely from his dream.

But he knew it was more memory than dream when he opened his eyes and smelled the scent of her lingering on his sheets. She, however, was gone.

He sat up, tangled in the sheets, and rubbed his eyes with one hand. His headache raged as consciousness hit him. He looked around his room, trying to focus. Shit, this place was a dump. No wonder she ran. He picked the clothes off the floor, tossing them into a hamper. As he threw his pants onto the pile, a small box tumbled out. He reached down to pick it up, freezing as he realized what it was. A ring box. For an engagement ring. Suddenly, everything came flooding back.

 _"_ _Winner is fourteen red," the dealer cast a smile in Morgan's direction. She jumped with excitement. Three thousand bucks. They had just won three thousand bucks. He stared at the table and the array of colorful chips being pushed in their direction. Before he could comprehend what was happening, he felt Morgan's arms resting interlocked behind his neck, her soft curves pressed against him. She screamed, deafening his right ear._

 _"_ _Oh my God! We won! What should we do with the money?" Her eyes glistened with excitement. He felt his heart racing and his blood pumping feverishly as all the alcohol they had consumed started to take effect. He pulled closer her into the hug, closing his eyes, his hands gently rubbing her back. He felt brave. He felt bold. He felt impulsive. He leaned his head next to hers, hearing her sharp intake of breath as he whispered in her ear._

 _"_ _Let's get married." She slowly pulled away, staring at him. He had pushed his limits. Crossed a line. Even drunk, surely she had better sense than that. But a sly smile spread across her face, revealing a pristine row of white teeth. She nodded eagerly._

 _"_ _Yeah. Let's."_

He groaned as he remembered. They went to the casino jewelry store with their winnings at Morgan's insistence and picked out a ring. Stumbling and kissing they made their way to a chapel down the street. Slurred through their vows and got a taxi to his place to begin the honeymoon.

He fell back against the bed hard, the flexibility of the mattress succumbing to his weight. He had proposed to Morgan. No, not just proposed. He had married her. Married Morgan: his crush, his co-worker, and his boss's daughter. He drew in a sharp breath. God, he was in for it.

* * *

He tried to hide in the break room, masking his discomfort coming off a drunken binge with a strong cup of coffee. But obviously it was a poor disguise since she was now staring at him from the doorway, her own bloodshot eyes mirroring his.

"Hey." He gave a weak nod. That was stupid. He should have started with an apology, but his mind still wasn't fully functioning.

"Greg," she looked down at him hesitantly taking a seat beside him, "what do you remember from last night?"

He stared into his coffee, watching the creamer swirl against the dark liquid.

"Everything," he admitted, unable to lift his eyes to look at her. And he meant it. If he dared to glance up at her, he wouldn't be able to get the image of her supple lips running down his body out of his mind. Or the picture of her arching her back in ecstasy, her breasts erect and wanting. His whole face felt hot and he knew perspiration was tinting his brow.

"So, it's true then? We married." It sounded more like she was stating something to herself than asking him a question.

"Yep." His gaze shifted slightly up, curiosity getting the better of him. What was going through her mind right now?

She was looking past him, focusing on some spot on the wall. She exhaled a long sigh. "So what do we do now?" Her words were barely audible.

"What do you want to do?" Her eyes suddenly shot to his, still unreadable but so intense.

"I don't know. I've never been married before," she answered.

"Me neither. I guess maybe we should talk to someone who has." Greg nodded as Russell walked through the door. Russell took a mug from the shelf and looked towards them as he grabbed the coffee pot to pour a cup, stopping mid-pour when he realized they were both staring at him.

"What?" Russell asked, his suspicions growing. "Don't you two have a crime scene to be at?"

* * *

"Christ! How did this happen?" Russell asked pacing his office as they sat in the chairs facing his desk, shame written all over them like scolded schoolchildren. "Does Ecklie know?"

Morgan's eyes went wide. She turned to Greg and then to her supervisor. "No! And you can't tell him. We have to keep this between us." She looked for confirmation. Russell fell in his chair and leaned back, pressing his fists to his eye sockets.

"Alright, alright…you two will have to get an annulment. Hire a lawyer and get this whole thing worked out before this entire lab becomes a hot bed for gossip. Before I have no choice but to it bring it to the board for review and possible disciplinary action." He sat up suddenly and pointed a finger that swayed accusatorially between them. "You didn't consummate the marriage, did you?"

Greg and Morgan glanced shyly at each other before quickly turning away, both faces flushing red.

"Actually, never mind. The less I know, the better. Just get this taken care of." Russell reprimanded and then dismissed them with a wave of a hand as he continued to contemplate what to do about the situation.

* * *

"God, I'm an idiot. It never even occurred to me that we could fired over this," Morgan ran a hand through her long curled mane. "What the hell was I thinking, suggesting we get that drunk?"

"I'm the one who proposed." It came out softer than he expected and she turned to stared at him after he said it.

"Well we both said I do," she looked around as she dropped her voice. "We need to do something about this mess before everyone finds out."

"Like your dad?" He regretted the comment watching her groan and crumble onto the bench in the hall, her head buried in her hands.

"Yes, exactly," she mumbled. He sighed, dropping down beside her.

"Hey, don't worry. I'll call a lawyer tomorrow. It will be like this never happened," he said, knowing the last part was more lie than truth for him. He would never be able to erase the memory of her bared before him, the sound of her heightened voice in the throes of passion, or the feel of her pressed against him, the feel of him inside of her. He took a deep calming breath, trying to think of something else, anything else.

"Always the optimist," she retorted to his remark. She cringed at the way it had sounded. "Sorry, thanks for doing that. I hope you're right." But actually, deep down, she wished he would have fought against it. Fought to pursue her and this sudden shift in their relationship. Maybe to him, it wasn't worth the fight.

* * *

The well paid lawyer told them it would take two months to wash away their one crazy night. Two months for them to try to forget the electricity that coursed through them when they had been together. Two months to forget the feel of her cuddled up next to him in bed, for once the loneliness dissipating into bliss. Two months to pretend the butterflies in her stomach and the quicken beat of her heart in his presence was nothing more than an afterthought, instead of deep adoration.

Two months was a long time. Greg combated the fire of desire burning in him that grew every day he worked with her with cold showers. But it never worked, feeling more like throwing water on a grease fire. Instead as the liquid rained down on him, he would imagine her with him, her taut body rubbing up against his, his hands traveling down her smooth porcelain skin. But it was more than sex that he craved. It was her laugh, her sense of humor, her gentle nature,…really everything about her. The possibility of her being with someone else broke him. Two months was a long time, but forever was starting to seem impossible.

She pulled out the ring and stared at it too many times to count in the weeks that followed the set time proclamation. It was simple yet elegant. It was the kind she had always wanted, always hoped to wear on her wedding day. Well, the one that mattered anyway. But now, it was nothing but a sad reminder of all the things she couldn't have. The life she didn't know she wanted until it was too late. She wondered if she would spend her whole life thinking what if, comparing their nonexistent life together to whatever laid in store possibly one day with someone else.

* * *

Six weeks passed, each day agonizingly slower than the last. A stolen glance, a clever joke and the brushing of hands while walking side by side was all they had any more. It was all they had before too, but now it felt like a loss. Morgan felt the dwindling hope consume her. In fact, it was making her ill.

"What?" Morgan stared at the doctor in shock, refusing to believe the words he'd just uttered. She had only come in because she had felt fatigued and slightly nausea all week. She had been expecting a prescription for a regimen of vitamins and lots of rest, not this. This could not be happening.

The doctor smiled at her and said again, "Miss Brody, it appears that you are-"

"Pregnant," Morgan read the home test kit in her hand for the third time, confirming what the doctor had already told her. The small black print chipped away at her denial as it stared back at her, mocking her disbelief. With trembling hands, she set the test back on the counter and looked up at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. What was she going to do? And then another thought hit her, sending her into full panic mode. What would Greg say?

* * *

Greg walked into the locker room, stopping short when he saw Morgan. She sat on the bench and turned away quickly when he entered. But she wasn't fast enough for him to miss the telltale signs that showed she had been crying: red rimmed eyes, flushed cheeks, small sniffles escaping her. Looking away, she wiped her eyes and tried to plaster on a smile before turning back around to face him.

"Morgan, what's wrong?" He sat beside her, concern written in his furrowed brow and dark eyes.

She glanced away, hiding her emotions behind a small unconvincing laugh. "It's nothing." But it wasn't. It was everything. It was her whole life. Their whole lives. Her bottom lip trembled as she fought the urge to cry.

He studied her. "Don't lie to me, Morgan. We're still husband and wife for another two weeks, and this marriage will never work with we're not honest with each other," he joked, hoping for a smile. Instead, she burst into tears, sobs racking her small frame.

"I was kidding," he said, throwing an arm around her and pulling her into a hug. "Hey, it's okay. Whatever it is, I'm sure it will be okay." She buried her face into his chest, wetting his shirt as he consoled her. This was the closest he had been to her since that night, the smell of her perfume flooding him with all the memories he had so desperately tried to forget.

She mumbled something he couldn't hear.

"What was that? I didn't hear you. Morgan, what is it?" He was bewildered and a little nervous. He had never seen her so upset before.

She pulled away from him slowly, her soft sad blue eyes meeting his worried gaze. She inhaled a deep calculated breath as she stared at him and then spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I'm pregnant."

Greg stared at her, not moving, not even blinking as he held his breath, his mind struggling to comprehend the two words she just said.

"Is it…" He trailed off watching her head bob in an affirming nod. "Oh!" His lungs felt like they had deflated. The air rushed out of him in a long low whistle.

Neither spoke for a moment. Their thoughts, left unsaid, hung in the space between them.

"Guess our honeymoon was more productive than we thought," Greg said, breaking the tension. She giggled, the sound transforming into a groan.

"I'm sorry. Greg, this is all my fault. If I hadn't suggested-" She wiped at her eyes.

"Morgan, stop," he cut her off. Smiling, he pulled her into another hug. "This is a good thing. We're having a baby." He rested his chin on the crown of her head. "Besides, I'm not exactly innocent here, and if I had to do it all over again, I would every time."

"But we could lose our jobs. We could-"

"So what." She pulled away to stare at him, startled. "I'd rather risk losing my job than my family. I'd risk anything other than risk losing you," he continued. He rested his forehead against hers, closing his eyes. "I love you, Morgan. I have for a while. I guess I just had to get hammered to actually do something about it. I'm not sorry we got married. I never was. I'm just sorry I almost let you go…"

"Are you saying what I think you're saying? Do you want to call off the annulment?" She smiled back, relieved.

"Yes." He stared at her, breath held, heart pounding, praying for her to agree.

Placing a hand on either side of his face, she pulled him towards her, her lips crashing into his. "I love you too, Greg Sanders."

 **Four years later…**

"Daddy! Grandpa!" The towheaded little girl bounced into the sheriff's office, her small ringlets swaying from side to side. Greg and Ecklie stopped talking, smiling at the child barreling towards them. She had Morgan's smile and kind nature but his eyes and love of mischief. A solid mix of the both of them. Greg knelt down and scooped her up in his arms.

"Hey sweetie, what are you doing here? Where's your momma?" The little girl laughed as her father tickled her.

"Mommy took me shopping. Look Daddy! Isn't my shirt pretty?" Greg glanced at her outfit, his smile turning to a shocked dropped jaw as he read the glittery pink letters scrawled across the t-shirt.

"Big sister?" Ecklie read the words aloud, raising his eyebrows.

"Surprise," Morgan's voice came from the doorway. Greg looked up, staring at his beautiful wife. He handed his daughter over to Ecklie and raced to embrace her.

"Really?" he asked, his whole face lighting up.

She nodded. Her broad smile matched the one flashing across his face like the Cheshire Cat. He pulled her up into a hug causing her toes to barely touch the ground. His lips were on hers, smiles and kisses fighting for control.

Ecklie and their daughter grinned watching the interaction. The sheriff patted his daughter on the back, breaking their moment. He gave her congratulations and hug. Ecklie led his granddaughter out of the room with the promise of ice cream. Greg turned to Morgan after their departure.

"There you go, surprising me again," he said.

She laughed, shrugging. "I am known to shock and awe at times."

"That you do." He leaned his forehead against hers.

"Well, what fun would life be without the element of surprise?" She wrapped her arms around him.

"Now look who's the optimist." Greg arched an eyebrow, smirking. She kissed him again.

"You bring it out in me."


	11. Chapter 11

**A Room with a View (a little bit of smut for you, your-my-best)**

The hotel receptionist couldn't seem to tear her eyes away from Greg's face.

"I'm sorry, sir. Can you repeat that?" She gave a timid smile that looked off with the rest of her wide eyed expression. He gritted his teeth when he heard Morgan attempt to stifle a giggle as she stood next to him, watching the interaction. He shot her a glare before turning back to the receptionist, a petite older woman who was trying too hard to hide her horrified appearance.

"We have two rooms reserved under the name Sanders. We're here for the conference. It might also be under the Las Vegas Crime Lab," Greg sighed. He moved his hand through his hair and silently cursed when he noticed more people staring at him.

Damn it! He should have demanded they go with the best two out of three when Morgan suggested they play rock, paper, scissors for the window seat on the plane. Instead, being the gentleman he was, he purposely threw the game in order to gain more favor in the eyes of his beautiful coworker, opting for the middle seat. The seat right next to the bratty eight year old who, while he and Morgan both slept, thought it was be hilarious to draw a goatee, mustache, and devil horns on Greg's face in permanent purple ink.

Sure, the boy's chaperone had been extremely apologetic. And Greg had tried to be gracious, even as Morgan's uncontrollable laughter rang out in his ears, but now his patience and good natured attitude were wearing thin.

"Sanders…Sanders…" The receptionist stared at her computer screen, obviously avoiding eye contact. "Oh, here it is. Except, it says you only have one room reserved."

"That can't be right," Greg's voice was almost a bark. "Check again."

The woman behind the counter jumped slightly and then turned to Morgan. "I'm so sorry. This is what we have and we are completely booked because of the conference. However, I can give you each a complimentary massage from our fabulous five star spa." The woman's eyes pleaded with Morgan, too scared to venture a look at Greg whose angry expression was made even more menacing by the purple ink.

Feeling pity for the overwhelmed receptionist, she offered back a smile. "That's fine. We'll made it work. Thank you," Morgan said, taking the room keys and grabbing at Greg's arm to pull him away as he begin to protest.

* * *

The room was smaller than she had expected, the queen size bed encompassing almost all of it. They both stared at the bed, holding on to the handles of their suitcases, neither speaking, slight glances sent in either direction.

"So, who is going to sleep on the bed and who's going take the floor?"Greg asked. Morgan looked down at the dingy bare-thread carpet.

"You don't seriously expect me to sleep on the floor?" she remarked. Greg turned to her, vengeance in his eyes.

"Morgan, I have a purple beard and devil horns plastered on my face. Come on. You don't expect me to be a complete saint here. What other option do we have?"

She bit her lip, trying not to laugh, but the drawings and his serious look clashed in the most comical way.

"We can share the bed." He raised his eyebrows at her suggestion and she completely lost it, doubling over in laughter. "We…can…sleep…facing…opposite ends." She struggled to catch her breath, wiping tears from her eyes as Greg rolled his. "I'm sorry," she continued. "I couldn't help it. You just look so-"

"Ridiculous. I know." Greg groaned. "I hope this wears before tomorrow. I can only imagine what Nick will say."

The forensics conference this year was being held in San Diego. Greg put Morgan up to begging Ecklie for the opportunity to have some of them from the lab go. She did, in exchange for being one of the ones chosen to attend. Originally it was suppose to be him, Morgan, and Sara, all of them excited for the chance to visit Nick, but a bad case of the flu brought the number down to two.

Morgan's hand on his arm brought him back to the moment.

"Come on," she said, leading him to the bathroom. "I think I have something in my make-up bag that can take that off."

* * *

He sat uncomfortably on the covered toilet as Morgan fished in her bag. A flash blinded him momentarily. He looked up to see her smirking as she placed the phone on the bathroom counter.

"Sorry," she said, still smirking as she turned back to her make-up bag. "I had to capture the evidence for future blackmail purposes."

He narrowed his eyes staring at her smug smile and twinkling eyes. "Very funny. Can we get on with this please?"

He watched her dab a cotton ball with a something that smelled potently strong. She walked over to him. With one hand, she lifted his chin and, with the other, she applied on his forehead the astringent he now recognized .

"Do you always carry rubbing alcohol with you when you travel?" he asked, trying not to think about how soft her fingers felt brushing against his skin.

Another smile crept across her face, her eyes focused on the smearing ink transferring from his face to the now purple cotton ball. "My mom was a nurse and my dad, a CSI. It was kind of a requirement that I bring a first aid kit with me wherever I went. Guess the habit stuck."

The pad of her thumb rubbed across his bottom lip as she worked on removing the goatee. He closed his eyes at the touch, only to open them and find her face just inches from his, studying her work. If he had felt braver, he would have closed the gap, brought those luscious lips to his. But she had already moved to the sink before he could react; not that he would have, would he?

"Is it gone?" he asked, a small catch in his throat.

"Come see for yourself," she said, drying her hands with the towel on the counter. He walked to the mirror, standing next to her as he examined her handiwork. Only a few faint purple streaks near his hairline remained.

"Not bad, Brody." His gaze moved to her. "Well now that I can go out in public again, how about we grab some dinner?"

"Sounds like a plan," she smiled, walking past him back into the bedroom. His eyes lingered on her backside as she left. He drew in a deep breath. He might be in trouble.

* * *

Morgan stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Originally, she had planned on sharing a room with Sara and, then as she packed, having one to herself. Never did she think Greg would see her like this, in the worn white t-shirt that was almost completely see-through and tight yoga pants she had thrown in as pajamas. As she ran her fingers through her still damp hair, another thought occurred to her. What did he sleep in?

The room was dark, the only light being the glow from the television. Maybe he was already asleep. Maybe she was just worrying for nothing. Maybe-

"What? No lacy nightgown?" He was sitting up in the bed, the top half of him bare, the rest of him covered by the sheets and hopefully some shorts. She blushed as she crawled in, her feet resting by his head.

"Only in your dreams, Sanders," she retorted.

"Nah, in my dreams, you're completely naked." She pulled up to stare at him from across the bed, the faint glow showcasing a mischievous grin on his face. She shook her head, smiling, and laid back down to sleep.

"Goodnight, Greg."

* * *

Something warm pressed against his thigh, riding his shorts up slightly on his left side. He woke up, adjusting to the light, about to move when the thing on his leg gripped him and what felt like fingernails scraped against his skin. God, that felt good. Then he remembered, jolting upright. Morgan. His quick movement sent the comforter slipping to the floor.

Morgan woke then, looking up at the foreign hairy body part leaning against her. Looking over the hill of Greg's leg, she met his eyes that went wide looking down at her. She followed his gaze as it make a fast shift to and from his cotton boxers. What was he looking at? Then she realized. "Oh!" she breathed, pulling away swiftly and falling clumsily onto the floor.

Scrambling to get up, she saw Greg was now standing, the comforter wrapped around his midsection, hiding his hard-on.

His gaze was on the ceiling as he spoke. "I'm just going to take a shower." Fumbling with the comforter, he made his way to the bathroom. He tried to shut the door, but it wouldn't close all the way. Damn comforter was stuck. He kicked it out of the way and then slammed the door. Leaning against it on the other side, his hands went through his hair as he exhaled a slow breath. Yeah, sharing the bed was a bad idea. And they still had two days left.

* * *

"Hey, how are my two favorite people?" Nick pulled Morgan into a hug, and then slapped Greg on the back. Morgan glanced at Greg. It had been an awkward morning to say the least. Neither had really spoken since the bed fiasco, both avoiding each other in one way or another, running to and from different seminars, but they knew they would have to face each other eventually. Especially since they had agreed to meet up with Nick for lunch.

"Great, except we miss you. How's it being the boss?" Morgan asked, her eyes shifting from Greg back to Nick.

"Well, I'm not one to lie. It busy, tiring, and worth every minute," he grinned. He looked at Greg, his eyebrow arching at the sight of his best friend. Greg's face was flushed and solemn, not his usual fun loving self, and his eyes were glued to Morgan. "What's wrong with him?" Nick asked her, jutting a thumb in Greg's direction.

Morgan laughed. "Have I got a story for you," she said, smiling as she watched Greg's whole body go tense. He froze, wondering what she was going to say next, but instead of talking she pulled out her phone, showing Nick the results of his disastrous plane ride.

"Not a bad look, G. Kind of suits you." Nick laughed, and Greg relaxed.

"Yeah, well I'll remember that when Halloween rolls around. Now what's good to eat around here? I'm starved."

* * *

They sat in a booth near the back of the Gardenwood Cafe, a quaint little lunch place Nick had suggested.

"That poor receptionist. Nick, you should have seen her face. Greg terrified her." Morgan laughed recounting the whole ordeal to Nick, conveniently leaving out the episode from earlier that morning.

"Sounds like y'all are having all kinds of fun." Nick smirked, glancing at Greg.

"You know it," Morgan smiled. A ringing came from her purse. She took out her phone, answering it. "Sorry," she said, holding her hand over the receiver. "It's my dad. I'll be right back." She stood and walked out of the cafe. Greg checked her out as she walked away.

Nick hit him on the arm. "So you two are sharing a room, huh? What's that like?" He wagged his eyebrows, laughing.

Greg face burned hot, a smirk creeping upon it. "Nah, it's not like that man. Besides, didn't you once tell me to not even think about it as far as Morgan is concerned?"

"Since when do you listen to me," Nick laughed. "If you're even halfway thinking about it- which let's face it, I know you are- you need to do something about it. Even if it's just telling her how you feel."

Greg let out shaky laugh as he sipped on his beer. "Yeah and when she rejects me that will make this whole sharing a room situation even better. Come on, man. Get real."

Nick turned serious. "This is as real as I get, man. You've been nothing but a lovesick puppy since you got here from what I've seen. You either need to snap out of it or do something about it." His voice dropped as Morgan approached the table. "You'll never know if you don't try."

"Hey guys, what did I miss?" Morgan slid back into the booth next to Greg.

"Nothing," he said, sending a knowing look Nick's way. "Ready to order?"

"Absolutely," she answered. "I know exactly what I want."

Nick stifled a chuckle when Greg answered back: "Me too."

* * *

The warm water cascaded over her, trailing down her slick skin in small waterfalls. After her massage, she needed this. Something to get her mind off the thought of Greg. The massage was supposed to do that, but instead it just fueled her desire for him, as she wondered what it would be like if he had been the one touching her, caressing her. Imagining what taste lingered on his lips. Great, now the shower seemed pointless too.

She turned off the water and wrapped a towel around her. She checked her phone. Greg went to some presentation about bugs in forensics that Nick was presenting. She had at least another hour before he was suppose to be back. That meant the bed to herself for a whole hour. She smiled and plugged her headphones in her ears and cranked up her music. Old school AC/DC. She danced and bobbed her head to the beat as she made her way into the hotel room and over to her suitcase. She found another pair of yoga pants and slipped them on, dropping her towel in the process. She searched for another t-shirt, tearing through her luggage, while she stood over it topless.

"Holy shit!" Greg's voice rang out above the music blaring in her ears, stopping her cold. She quickly grabbed the shirt she had worn the night before and threw it over her before turning around.

Greg's eyes were transfixed on her chest, and when she looked down, she realized why. She crossed her arms over her breasts, hoping to hide what the worn nearly sheer fabric hadn't.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed.

"Nick got a call from work and had to cut the presentation short. Sorry, I didn't expect…" His let his voice die off and his gaze fall to the floor. "I can go and come back later." He swallowed hard, hesitantly raising his eyes to meet hers.

"No," she smiled, "Don't do that. Let's just call it even from this morning. I'll just change in the bathroom and then maybe we can watch a movie or something."

Greg grabbed her by the waist as she moved past him to go to the bathroom. He pulled her against him making she gasp, startled. "I have a better idea," he rasped. And then, before he could think better of it, he brought his mouth down on top of hers. She moaned softly, her hands finding their way curling into his hair at the nape of his neck. "Morgan, I…" He inhaled her sweet perfume.

"I know. I remember from this morning." Her hand lowered to his pants, rubbing along the bulge in them. He groaned. That was more invitation than he needed. Suddenly he was on her, hands groping bare breasts, fingers sliding down pants, lips edging down her neck and along her collarbone.

She followed suit, hands unbuttoning his shirt, fingers slipping beneath the fabric of his pants and then boxers as both made their way to the floor, her lips brushing across his chiseled chest.

The bed creaked under the weight of them and continued to squeak as they made love up on it. The sound was drowned out soon by the couple themselves as they worked their way into a frenzy of ecstasy.

She laid her head against his chest as he continued to pant in the aftermath, trying to calm his breathing and heart. He shifted causing her to look up at him and smile. He brought her up to him, his lips meeting hers again.

"That was perfect. You're perfect." The words glided against her ear as his mouth moved back to her neck.

"So are you," she smiled, "devil horns and all."

"Haha…beautiful and funny." He stared into her eyes, returning the smile.

"Well I guess we don't have to fight over who gets the bed tonight." She snuggled against him, falling into the crook of his arm.

"True, but the window seat on the plane tomorrow is another story."

She laughed. "I love you, Greg."

He kissed her forehead, pulling her closer. "I love you too."


	12. Chapter 12

**A little pre-finale smut. Just three more days. : )**

 _He caressed her smooth milky thigh as his lips fell to her ample bosom, his tongue teasing along the laced edges of her corset. "Ma Cherie," he muttered against her soft skin, "I want to touch-_

"Morgan! You ready to go to autopsy?" She jumped, her erotic novel flying out of her hands and skidding under the desk. She whipped her office chair around to face Greg who stood at the doorway. The way his tall figure leaned against the frame of the door reminded her of the love interest in her book. Dark, charming, and handsome. Would he be as bold in bed? Heat rose to her cheeks, imagining the scenario. God, what was she thinking? It was Greg, for Christ's sake.

"Hey!" She hoped he didn't notice how embarrassed or turn on she was, her nipples hardening against the thin layer of her bra. God, she was flustered. Normally, she didn't bring her trashy romance novels to work, but it had been a slow day and this particular one had caught her eye at the drug store she stopped by on her lunch break.

She stumbled slightly as she stood and walked past Greg, avoiding his gaze. "I just need to, um, freshen up. I'll be right back," she explained, almost running out of the room. His eyebrows knitted in confusion. His eyes lingered on her as she exited, her ass swaying almost seductively in her haste.

"What the hell?" he said to himself. He was making his way to the desk when something on the floor captured his attention. Kneeling down to pick it up, he saw it was a book. One with a very suggestive cover: a half naked man grasping a woman whose breasts were almost pouring out of her gown. Greg lifted his gaze to look around the room. He knew no one was there, but he couldn't help having the feeling that someone was looking over his shoulder, like when he was a teenager sneaking peeks at his dad's old Playboys.

Intrigued, he opened up to a dog eared page and began to read.

 _Pinning her up against the wall, he ripped the threaded lacing of her undergarments. Her backside pushed against him with force, spurring on his growing arousal. Growling in anticipated pleasure, his callous palm rubbed her breast, the sensation causing her to arch into him. His hand ventured lower, running down her abdomen, stopping as his fingers found her-_

"What are you doing?" Greg glanced up slowly, seeing Morgan standing before him, arms crossed. Her face didn't hold a hint of a smile, and when her eyes caught sight of the book, they grew as big as saucers. She snatched the paperback from his hands.

He swallowed and licked his suddenly dry lips before speaking. "That's some interesting reading material you've got there." Was that what Morgan was into? Because, damn, it was hot!

"Oh. My. God." Her face tinted a deep shade of scarlet. "Pretend you didn't see this." She motioned to the novel as she hastily stashed it away in a desk drawer.

A smile played on his lips while something darker flamed in his mahogany eyes. "You have a wild side, Morgan Brody. I'll be damned if I ever thought I would see the day I caught you reading porn."

She sneered at him. "It's not porn! It's romance, something I'm sure you know nothing about."

Greg chuckled watching her try to hide her embarrassment behind the thinly veiled angry expression, scowling at him. "It's sex, pure and simple. Admit it. You get turned on reading junk like that."

"Did it turn you on?" She arched an eyebrow and suddenly his cool demeanor left him, an uneasy feeling replacing it.

He gave a slight cough and threw his gaze off of Morgan towards the clock on the wall. "We're late. We better get going or Doc will be pissed."

* * *

She could feel him practically breathing on top her as he stood next to her, leaning closer to examine the body. Yeah, she definitely couldn't bring her eroti- er, romance novels to work any more. Her mind was becoming dirtier by the second, thinking of Greg's bicep that was brushing up against her and how she'd rather have it wrapped around her. Or, as she watched him speak, wondering how his mouth would feel against her skin, his tongue against her- Okay, Morgan, snap out of it, she told herself. This was becoming dangerous, especially seeing how there was an exposed body and evidence to be focused on instead.

"What's are your thoughts, Morgan?" She looked up into Doc Robbins's face and then Greg's. Both waiting on an answer to a question she didn't hear. Crap.

"Umm…," she stalled glancing over their heads at the back of the room. "I agree with Greg. Both of you actually." She smiled, hoping this was a moment where that would be acceptable. The two men exchanged a glance. Okay, maybe that was the wrong thing to say. Damn it! She should have been listening.

"Are you feeling all right?" The elderly doctor studied her expression with concern.

She swallowed, feeling Greg's eyes on her. "I'm fine. Just a little tired. Can you explain what you were saying again?"

"The shot was a through and through, but we didn't collect a bullet at the scene. We need to go back. Also, there was a jagged cut on his left shoulder. Any idea on what could have made that? I don't remember collecting anything sharp enough to leave a mark like that." Greg said, standing beside her. Too close beside her. She shivered. Was it getting colder in there or was it just her? Then again, it was the morgue, a place not really known for its warmth.

Morgan met his gaze. "Me neither. I'll restock my kit and meet you at the car." She brushed past him and the coroner as she tore the medical gown off of her clothes, tossing it on her way out. Standing on the other side of the metallic doors, she paused, drawing in a sharp breath. Okay, clearly she was attracted to Greg. Where the hell had that come from? And what the hell was she going to do about it?

* * *

It had been awkward between them ever since he found her porn stash, or "romance" novel as she put it, in the office. She had barely spoke and seemed all kinds of uncomfortable around him. Did he do something wrong? He was just joking with her. Geez. She needed to relax. Better yet, she needed to get laid. The image of Morgan splayed under bed sheets flashed before him, and he almost veered off the road.

"Greg, watch where you're going. Normally, I'm the crazy driver and you're the one scolding me. Are you okay?" she asked.

"Fine. I'm fine." A hoarse whisper came out. A flicker of his gaze from the road to her revealed that she was staring at him. "What?" his voice sounded more like a demand than a question. He tried to soften his tone. "I'm okay. Seriously."

There was the briefest moment of silence and then she asked it. He hoped she had forgotten. She hadn't.

"So…you didn't ask my question earlier. Did it turn you on?" Her smirk had never been so enticing. He wanted to wipe it off her face, erasing it with his own mouth. Christ! He needed to focus. They were still at work, and she was still Ecklie's daughter and his coworker.

"Does it turn you on?" he deflected. He couldn't afford to play this game, but apparently he was.

"Nice diversion, Sanders. And, unlike you, I have no problem answering that," she said, looking away from him now, out the window. "Yes, I buy books like that because I don't have a love life. Haven't for a long time. In fact, I'm so desperate, I'd probably jump your bones in the backseat if you asked me to."

That did it. He swerved off onto the side of the road. "What?" This time the question came out more breathless and with a inquisitive nature.

She smiled deviously at him. "What's the matter, Sanders? Not the answer you were hoping for?" She sugarcoated the words with a syrupy inflection.

"Brody, you are liable to kill us both if you continue to talk like that while I'm driving." It sounded like a husky growl, and he hoped to God, she didn't realize how incredibly turned on he really was. So much so, he was tempted to take her up on her offer right then, en route to a crime scene.

Her smile grew. "It was a roundabout answer, but seeing how it's all you'll probably offer, I'll take it. Yep, no doubt about it. That book turned you on. Big time." He wanted to tell her that just the thought of her underneath him turned him on, but he knew where to draw the line. He just didn't know how to stop himself from crossing it.

* * *

The tension pulled at them from all angles as they reprocessed the scene, which- of course- had to be at a brothel. Sex surrounded them, accosting them at every turn. Bottles of lube, boxes of condoms, lacy lingerie tucked away in storage. Way to make things awkward Morgan, she berated herself as she lifted unseemly things with gloved hands, storing them in baggies. They hadn't spoken to each other since they arrived, let alone looked in the other's direction. The distance was growing with every passing moment from the last time she spoke in the car. How did their usually innocent flirtation turn so wrong? Oh that's right. She made it personal. Ugh!

Greg was at the bed, searching the mattress and bed frame for the missing bullet. The small hole hidden at the edge of the headboard gave him pause.

"Got the bullet." He pulled it out of the wood with tweezers. Morgan looked up and nodded, before turning back to the task at hand: finding the serrated weapon.

She reached into a drawer of the wooden dresser and pulled out a blindfold and handcuffs. She stood staring at the items in her hands blankly for a moment, not realizing Greg had come up behind her.

"What? No fetishes in your romance novel?" His breath was hot in her ear. She turned and caught the playful gleam in his eye, or maybe it was something else. "What _do_ you fantasize about?" He inched closer, as she stepped back. "Being taken up against a wall?"

She inhaled deeply, almost gasping. "Um, I didn't find the weapon." She said, changing the subject . Greg lifted up a leather whip with a bloodied spike on the end.

"That's okay. I did. You ready to go?" He smirked, his gaze meeting hers. She nodded, exhaling as she watched him walk away.

* * *

She pulled the sash tighter on the trench coat as her nerves went haywire. On the ride back to work, Greg invited her to come over after work, an unspoken proposition. The lining of the coat clung to all the parts underneath not already hidden by racy lingerie. She didn't know what she was thinking, but it wasn't really her brain controlling her decisions anymore. Hesitantly, she knocked.

The door swung open and there he was, looking surprised and disheveled in sweatpants and a tight undershirt, like he had actually been sleeping. Oh shit! He was kidding. She had totally misread the signals.

"Morgan?" Damn he sounded sexy, his voice gruff from lack of use.

"Sorry, I thought…never mind." She ran her fingers through her hair, a nervous movement. Her face burned, but when she looked up to view his reaction, his gaze had become smoky and was aimed at her chest. A chill hit her along with the realization that her coat had come undone, showcasing her barely covered body beneath it.

She opened her mouth, to speak, to explain, but she never got the chance. His lips crashed against hers with intensity, the taste of him on her tongue. Her coat slid off her shoulders and hit the floor with a soft thud in the entryway to his apartment. He pressed into her, her back hitting the wall. His hand moved up her thigh as his mouth traveled down the hollow of her neck. She felt her brain go numb with desire, all conscious thought leaving her. Kisses fell against her collarbone, stilling as her fingers settled into the hem of his pants, tugging them down gently. Taking her lead, his own fingers traced the edges of her silk bikini panties, hooking onto the sides and ripping them off in one fluid motion. His hands glided up her taut stomach, circling around to her back as he lifted her up and unclasped her lacy pushup bra. She was bare before him now, and nothing had ever felt so right. Her legs wrapped around his waist, arching against the hardness that strained in his body. A gasp followed by a moan escaped her as the warmth of his mouth fell over her breasts. Her fingers tugged at his dark thick hair as he worked his magic on her, teasing her tender skin with the tangle of his tongue.

"Morgan," he rasped, "I can't wait any longer. I need to be in you." She made a sound that she wasn't sure was even intelligible, but he understood. One sharp thrust and she felt him inside her, filling an emptiness she didn't realize she had. He drove her further up against the wall. His hands gripped her hips, and his mouth found hers again. The kisses were hungry and interspersed with groans of ecstasy. She was on the verge of losing control, one more touch and she'd lose it, one more- Oh God! She was there and it was glorious. His ragged breathing let her know he was on the edge too, and before she knew what was happening, she was on the floor, his weight covering her, and then falling into her as he fell apart. A slow moment passed. He rolled off of her and pulled her against his chest letting his breathing steady.

"Greg?" She was at a lost for words, but wanted to be sure, to know this wasn't a mistake. That he saw her the same way she saw him.

"That book didn't turn me on, but you sure as hell do. You always have," he said as if reading her mind. She looked up at him, reaching across him in a one armed hug. Her lips rested against his throat, the hum of his Adam's apple moving against them.

"So does that mean this isn't just a one time thing?"

"Yeah. Actually, I'm okay with making this an every night thing." He kissed her forehead, brushing the blonde locks from her face.

She laughed. "Works for me." Her lips found his, and her lonely heart finally found peace.


	13. Chapter 13

**_Expectations- Another baby fanfic. Enjoy!_**

The child cooed in his mother's arms as she waited nervously for answers, sitting in the foyer of the police station. The baby glanced at Morgan giving her a sweet, gummy smile. Her heart skipped a beat as she reached for his tiny fist. She wanted this. She ached for it. Every time she had been around babies lately, it was like her biological clock went into overdrive. Just last week, at her friend Rebecca's baby shower, she held her other friend's little girl, cradling her in her arms. It felt right and an emptiness opened up inside her when she handed the baby back. Grief had washed over her for the loss of something she never had and, until then, didn't realize how desperately she wanted it. She wanted a baby. But as she watched the little boy drift off to sleep cocooned against his mother's chest, she realized it was no longer just a want, it was a deeply rooted need.

* * *

"I want to have a baby, and I don't need your permission to do so." She was firm in her stance, standing toe to toe to her father who blanched at the idea. He threw his hands up and sighed at this latest declaration in the heated argument that had been going on for the last hour. He turned and walk to his desk.

"Morgan, a child needs a father. You can't have a baby by yourself," he huffed.

"A child needs a father? That's rich coming from you." She cringed the moment the words left her mouth. She didn't mean to hurt him, which she obviously did watching the pained expression flinch across his face. Why couldn't he see that she would be a great mother? She was capable and stable in her career. If she waited for a man to come along- and who knew how long that would be- she might run out of time. Sure, having a guy around to help and share in the whole experience would be great. But with her track record of boyfriends, that wasn't happening any time soon.

"Look, I know I don't deserve the father of the year award. But despite how much you hated me growing up, you still needed me, and your mother needed me just as much, especially when you hit the teenage years." He walked over to her again, bracing her shoulders with his hands as he looked her in the eye. "I would love to have a grandchild, Morgan. But I don't think you fully understand how heavy of a responsibility this will be. You will have to live with this decision for the rest of your life."

"I know," she spoke softly," that if I don't have a baby now, I will have to live with that regret for the rest of my life also. I'm doing this, with or without your blessing."

"Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you," he gritted.

* * *

Greg glanced over Morgan's shoulder, reading the profiles she was scanning online. What was this? A dating site? There was a lists of physical traits along with a picture, a list of accomplishments, and medical history. Medical history? This site was thorough, and if he thought about it, a little invasive.

"What kind of dating site is this?" he asked, startling her. She slammed the top of the computer close.

"It's not a dating site. It's a sperm bank, and it's overwhelming." She didn't even look up at him as she moved away from the table to the coffee pot, grabbing a mug. He gaped at her, speechless for a moment before regaining his composure.

"Sperm bank? Why do you need a sperm bank?" he was aghast and clearly confused.

"I'm going to have a baby. Well, I'm going to try to, at least." She turned to face him, sipping on her coffee.

"Why?" As far as he knew, Morgan was single. Why would she want to raise a baby by herself? He felt a weight in the pit of his stomach at the thought of her carrying another man's child. But what did he expect? He never made a move on her, never asked her out. Eventually she would find someone. This was just her cutting out the middle man. Her scoff brought him back to the conversation.

"You sound just like my father. Why not? I'm already in my thirties. I don't want to wait until I'm too old to enjoy the experience," she said, softly adding, "or too old to even have it."

"Okay, I get that, I guess. But really? You want to have a kid with a complete stranger? Won't that be weird knowing half of your child's DNA is from someone you've never met?"

Her gaze dropped. "I agree. It's not exactly ideal, but I don't have a lot of options. I mean, what am I suppose to do? Ask you to donate sperm?" His eyes grew wide when she said it, and she bit her lip, looking like she wished she hadn't.

"I'll do it." Her gaze shot to his, staring at him.

"What?"

"I'll help you conceive. But only on one condition," he said walking towards her.

"What's that?" she asked, her cheeks flushing as he drew closer.

"We have to do it the old fashion way." He searched her eyes, wondering if he had overstepped. Well, hell, of course he had. He just agreed to father her baby and sexually propositioned her at the same time. He was surprised she hadn't just laughed the whole idea off as ridiculous. Or slapped him. But, instead she uttered the word that almost made his heart stop.

"Deal."

* * *

"This is just a one time thing," she clarified, clenching the robe tighter. They had agreed to rent a room in one of the luxurious hotels on the strip, so not to complicate matters further by being in one of their personal spaces.

His lips fell against the skin behind her ear. "It might take more than one time," he countered. She caught her breath, feeling him move to untie her robe, under which she wore nothing.

"God, I hope so," she muttered, her body trembling. He pulled away, his hungry gaze boring into hers.

"Morgan, are you sure you want to do this?" he asked. "I mean, once we do this, there's no turning back."

"I know," she whimpered, feeling his hands move beneath the robe, caressing her naked skin. "I want to do this. Do you still want to?"

"Hell yes." His mouth crashed into hers and then all questions and rational thoughts ceased.

* * *

Her smile was brighter, her step lighter. Everyone had commented on her happy glow. She just shrugged and brushed it off. There was only one person she wanted to share her exciting news with, at least for now.

"Greg." She found him at his locker. He turned to her, slipping on his jacket.

"Hey." His eyes met hers and then flickered down her body for a brief moment before meeting them again. She blushed. He had done that often, probably unconsciously, since their intimate night together.

"I have a little surprise for you." She pulled out the plastic bag she had put the pregnancy test in and handed it to him. He looked down at the test and then back to Morgan. Her wolfish grin must have been contagious as one mirroring it spread quickly across Greg's face.

"Wow!" He pulled her into a hug. "So, how are you feeling? When do you go to the doctor? Any idea on when you're due?"

She put her hands on his chest, slightly pushing off. "Whoa. Slow down. I just found out this morning. I'm okay save for a wave of nausea every now and then. Greg, thank you so much. You have no idea how excited I am or what this means to me."

His hands traveled down to her abdomen. "I can't believe we're having a baby. I want to be there for everything. Let me know when you set up an appointment with the doctor so I can take off and go."

She put her hands over his, gently removing them as she held them between her own. "I'm having a baby. Greg, you don't have to be a part of this. I went into this knowing I would be a single mom. Don't feel like you're obligated to anything."

His expression fell into a frown. "This is my kid too, Morgan. I'm going to be a father. I want to be there. I want to be a part of his or her life. We're in this together."

"Greg, we're not together. Our transaction, what we decided, it was a donation. You contributed the sperm and-"

"And I'm supposed to pretend that your child isn't also mine. Is that it? I'm supposed to watch you raise our kid and act like Uncle Greg, just Mom's goofy friend? No way. I want to be a dad just as much as you want to be a mom. So why can't I?" His brow furrowed as he stepped back.

"This isn't what we agreed on. I mean, how is this going to work? Trade the baby every other weekend like a divorced couple? What about when you find a girlfriend? You won't want a baby cramping up your style. This isn't a spur of the moment decision, Greg." She hugged her arms across herself.

"Oh really? You don't say! Morgan, I have been thinking about this ever since the night we spend together. I'm not jumping into this blind, unlike you, who jumped into bed with me without even considering how I would figure into all of this. I thought you understood that I wanted to be a part of this too."

"I don't want to raise my baby in a broken family, shuffling him or her from place to place, arguing over how punishments are different at my house than yours, being compared to Dad, who's more fun, or worst: Dad's new girlfriend. I lived through that. I won't put my child through it too," her voice clipped. She took the bag with the test from his hands and walked out of the locker room, leaving Greg shaking with anger.

* * *

"Look, I don't know what your problem is but you two are going to stay in here and work it out while I go try to rectify the trouble you've caused," Russell scolded Greg and Morgan who wouldn't even glance at each other, blatantly turning away. It had been two weeks since the locker room incidence and tensions still ran high between them. Morgan's hormones were all over the place, one minute she was crying, the next yelling. That's how they ended up here. A routine interrogation turned argument about everything but the actual issue, and in front of their prime suspect and his lawyer no less.

Greg was the first to speak. "Morgan, we have to call a truce on this and find a middle ground for now or we'll both lose our jobs."

"Yeah, okay." She agreed, turning back to face him. She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry for how I've been acting. All of this is new and kind of scary for me. I don't even recognize myself. This child is making me hormonal, tired, and sick as a dog. Probably just taking after its dad." She smirked, drawing a smile out of Greg as well. "You were right. This kid is both of ours and I want you to have some involvement. You shouldn't be a stranger to your own child, and I should have never made you feel that way. By the way, my first doctor's appointment is Wednesday if you still want to come."

"I'll be there. And for what it's worth, I'm sorry too. I've been an ass. I know this isn't easy on you. I should warn you though: I have some strong genetic material. You might be doomed to deal with my quirks forever." He cautiously ran his hand over hers.

"God help me," she laughed.

* * *

Six months passed faster than either of them expected. The lab was a flutter with gossip when word first got out about their unique situation, but the talk was starting to die down, especially now that all rumors were confirmed by Morgan's very pregnant appearance lately.

Greg watched Morgan's every move, anticipating any thing she might need and sweeping into action as soon as possible to meet it. He made her rest her swollen feet when he caught her waddling around the office while working on paperwork. He rubbed the tension from her shoulders on the long days and didn't wake her when she fell asleep, snoring as her head lay on the break room table. He wouldn't let her do anything he deemed dangerous, and while she pretended to be irritated, she was secretly so grateful to have him there, watching out for her. The reality of it all was finally hitting her. In a few weeks, she would have another human life to care for, someone totally dependent on her, and it scared her senseless.

She read the baby books and was overwhelmed by how little she knew and how unprepared she felt. What the hell was she thinking? There was no way she could do this alone. She didn't even know if she could do this at all any more.

She walked to the nursery Greg and her dad had set up for her. She ran her fingers over the tiny clothes fit more for a doll than a person. Picking up the latest framed sonogram sitting on the desk, she sat in the rocking chair. This was her son. He was depending on her, expecting her to be ready, to be able to handle anything. She felt like she was already letting him down. She didn't realize she had been crying until the door bell rang, the sound breaking through her sobs.

Wiping her eyes, she opened the door to find Greg on the other side.

"Hey, I was just at the store, and I saw this and couldn't resist. Pretty awesome, right?" He pushed the upscale stroller into the entranceway. His smile faded when he looked at Morgan. "What's wrong?"

She threw her arms around his neck, falling into his embrace. "I'm going to be a terrible mother. What the hell was I thinking, Greg? I can't do this. I don't know anything about babies. I haven't changed a diaper since my babysitting days. I have no earthly idea how to work a breast pump. I'm a complete mess and am going to be a failure."

"Hey, don't say things like that," he stroked her hair as he spoke gently in her ear. "You are going to be a fantastic mom. You're strong, smart, kind, and caring. You don't take shit from anyone. I don't know anybody else more qualified for the job than you."

"You're just saying that to make me feel better," she sniffled.

"Morgan, look at me," he lifted up her chin with his finger making eye contact, "You are ridiculously good at everything you do. You set the bar so damn high. There is no other woman in this world I'd rather have as the mother of my child."

"Really?" she smiled.

"Absolutely. You've ruined sex for me. No one else will ever be that good. I'll have to spend the rest of my life being celibate."

Morgan laughed and gently shoved him. "God, you're a flirt."

"Well, is it working?" he smirked, arching an eyebrow.

"Yes," she said, pulling him down to kiss him.

* * *

"Well, aren't you going to introduce me?" Conrad Ecklie said smiling as he watched his daughter cradle the newborn. Greg sat by her side, staring into the eyes of his infant son.

Morgan smiled, looking up at her father. "Dad, I'd like you to meet your grandson, Dylan Sanders."

Ecklie approached the little family, extending his finger for the baby to grasp onto.

"Dylan, huh? Not Conrad Junior?" he teased. "Well, at least you two came to your senses and got married. I'd have hated for my grandson to be a bastard."

Morgan rolled her eyes and looked at Greg. His gaze was full of adoration, staring back at her. She may have started this journey out thinking she only wanted a baby, but looking in the eyes of her loving husband, she realized she got what she needed and so much more.

 **I've been bored lately if you can't tell. (I write when I'm bored.) I don't have time for a long story but like writing one-shots. If you have any requests, send them my way. I'm up for a challenge. Thanks for reading.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Fix the finale- This is a combination of Katie McGee's request (Greg's car exploding) and a prompt by your-the-best. Most of this is her (your-the-best) idea, I just added some detail. I changed up some things, and if you haven't seen the finale yet, it might not make much sense. Anyway, hope you like it okay. : )**

The red numbers glared at him. Mockingly, they winked as they counted down. 2:35. Two minutes and thirty five seconds left. Now thirty four. God, is this what his life came down to? A blinking deadline to death. Greg held his breath. He glanced over at Morgan. Her whole body was shaking in terror. Blonde hair tumbling and trembling against the convulsing sobs that racked her small frame. He ached to hold her, to calm her, to tell her it would be okay. But it wouldn't, would it? Two minutes even flashed before him. Less than two minutes left to stop the bombs. Less than two minutes to survive, to live, to breathe.

He sucked in the stale metallic air around him. Shit. Steadying his quivering hand, he slipped the edges of the wire cutter around the red coated wire. Not yet. Steady. Deep breaths. Fifty eight seconds. Oh hell, was this it? Morgan's cry stole his attention. He watched her own pair of wire cutters fall from her grasp.

She scrambled to grab them.

"You got it?" Catherine's calm voice undercut with a sharp panic. She seemed so in control. Ms. FBI Agent. But Greg knew her too well. Knew she was a better liar than she was being right now. She was scared. Hell, they all were.

Morgan fumbled with the cutters. "Yeah," she whimpered. But she didn't. He could see that. She was barely keeping it together. Damn it. If they were going to die, he was going to do everything he could to save her. He dropped his wire cutters. The numbers were in the single digits. His hands covered hers less than a second later as he stood behind her, holding her up, feeling her warm body pressing into his. If these were his last moments, there was no where else he'd rather be.

"Now," Catherine called out. He squeezed Morgan's hands as they pushed the cutters close against the wire. Two seconds stood still on the timer. He exhaled, laying his forehead against the back of her shoulder.

He felt the ground rumble and the wind quake. He pushed Morgan to the ground, shielding her as the bomb in the car he had been in front of less than two minutes ago blew. Smoke and dust fell in his eyes as he clamped them shut. The sound was deafening. It was a while before he heard anything else. Anything at all. Catherine's voice vibrated like a distant echo. Repeating his name until it became clearer, crisper. He opened his eyes staring into Morgan's beautiful blue ones that stared back at him horrified. She was sprawled underneath him. The pulse of her heart beat a frantic rhythm against his chest as he lay there, unable to move.

"Are you okay?" he whispered while Morgan found the strength to push up on her elbows. She ran her fingers through his hair as she continued to stare. He sat back, pain shooting through his whole body when he moved.

"Yeah." She pulled her hand back from his head, now wet with blood. His blood. "But you're not." She sighed, tears watering her eyes. "Oh God, Greg."

His hands found her shoulders. She blubbered, bawling between short clipped breaths. A hand landed on his back, and he turned to see the fear in Catherine's face.

"Oh, Greg," that terribly calm voice cracked at the same time her strong exterior did.

"I'm okay, Catherine. I'm okay." But even as he said it, the blood trickled down into his line of vision.

"Greg, you're not okay." She took out her soot covered radio, gripping it as she spoke. "I need a medic at my location. Stat."

* * *

He had been lucky. All of them had been. Only less than a quarter of the explosive in the trunk had detonated. He walked around the bathroom, a little sore in his joints and with twenty eight new stitches across his scalp which had been nicked by flying shrapnel. Peering at his reflection, he studied the bandage that ran from his left ear to the beginning of the brow over his right eye. Lucky wasn't the right word. Miraculous was more like it. Because it had been a miracle he hadn't lost his eye or ear or life. A miracle that it was just a sharp scrap instead of something deeper, something penetrating. Like the fear that swallowed him. He had almost lost her.

Morgan had held his hand, rubbing it almost absentmindedly while the paramedic sewed him up. Her worried gaze never left his, never wavered. They had been so close to the end. It was the perfect time to say it. To tell her how he felt, but his mouth wouldn't work. His words wouldn't form.

He slammed his bruised palm against the mirror in anger. What the hell was wrong with him? He glared at the broken man on the other side of the glass. Tonight. He was going to tell her tonight. He-

His phone dinged. Tearing his eyes away from the mirror, he looked at the small screen on the granite countertop. Her picture flashed across it. Her gorgeous smile inviting him to answer. He froze. He couldn't move, couldn't do anything but stare, the anxiety pushing out the air in his lungs. And then she was gone, the image disappearing as a text popped up. _How are you?_ And then, a few minutes later, another one. _Come over. Please._

He closed his eyes and peered once again back at the damage done to him earlier that morning. He took a deep breath. Tonight. He was going to tell her tonight.

* * *

She couldn't keep her hands from shaking. Her keys rattled in them. Closing a fist around the metal, she sank back against the leather seat. The car was silent except for the small jangle of the keys. They had almost died. It was still so surreal. The numbers counting down: eliminating all the future dreams and goals she had with each second that ticked lower. The images had scrolled through her mind. A montage of her life: friends, family, and then him. His smile, the way his soft brown eyes lit up, the feel of him holding her. Then she had dropped the cutters. The numbers sped up, moving faster to the finish line. Her finish line. Before she could register what was happening, his hands were steadying hers. They were warm, soft, rough, and wonderful all at the same time. She welcomed their control as he took over, helping her diffuse the bomb.

Then there was the explosion, and his weight covered her. He kept her safe. He always did. The blood had terrified her. It was everywhere. And it was his. She squeezed her eyes close, but the scene played out on the back of her eyelids anyway. He was hurt. Her heart was breaking.

She dialed before she could think better of it. No answer. Her fingers danced across the digital keyboard, sending the text. Still nothing. She needed to get out of there. She needed to go somewhere and think about something else, anything else. She looked at her phone again. She typed out the message and hit send. She needed to see him.

* * *

Half an hour had passed and he still hadn't responded. Maybe he blamed her. The thought shook and tore at her as she walk to her apartment through the small dark corridors of the complex. She stopped cold when she saw him, standing at her door, those beautiful brown eyes boring into her soul.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey," he repeated, walking towards her.

"I didn't think you would come." She held her breath as Greg's hand reached up to touch her face and tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"You asked me to. I would do anything for you. You should know that by now." His smile reminded her to breathe again. Her fingers lightly grazed the bandage across his forehead.

"Yeah I do," she whispered. Swallowing, she stepped forward and turned the lock in the door. "You want a beer?" She glanced his way and watched him nod.

"Yeah, sure."

She opened the door, and he brushed past her entering, making her heart flutter.

Five minutes later, they were sitting side by side on her cream colored sofa, each with a beer in their hands, neither speaking. His arm next to hers brought chills as the memory flooded back.

She pressed the cool glass to her lips, letting the liquid flow through her, warming and settling her nerves.

She opened her mouth to speak. "We-"

"Wha-" He started at the same time. A nervous laugh escaped them both. Greg looked over at her. Thank God she was sitting because just his gaze on her made her knees go weak.

"You first," he said.

She drew in a deep breath and set her beer on the oak coffee table in front of her. She didn't look at him as she said it but could still feel the intensity of his stare.

"We could have died today." Her voice wavered and never reached above a whisper as she spoke.

Greg coughed, setting down his beer. She let her eyes fall on him.

"Yes, we could have," his tone was calm, and the sound of it made her ache for more. "We could have, "he repeated, "but we didn't. We're okay." His jaw tightened. He looked like he wanted to say more, but he didn't.

Her hand found its way on top of his. She interlaced her fingers between his and heard his breath quicken at the action.

"Greg, ever since earlier…in the parking garage, so many things have been going through my mind." She flipped their intertwined hands over and rubbed her thumb along his palm, feeling the raised marks of the scrapes that would soon become scars. He stilled beneath her touch. " I kept thinking about what could have happened. How close you were to…" Her eyes briefly closed at the unmentionable. "I care about you, Greg. So much more than I ever thought I would or thought I wanted to about someone. When I first came to Vegas, a relationship was the very last thing on my mind. The fact that you flirted with me was flattering and, at times, just annoying cute. Somewhere through the years though, that flirtation became more, shifting from a one sided crush to an admiration felt by both of us. Lately, every time you walk by me or I smell just the hint of your cologne, I know this is going to sound weird…but I feel so safe." God, the things his eyes could do to her just by looking at her. "No one has ever made me feel that way before. I don't expect you to say anything, but I just wanted you to know that I-"

"Morgan, shut up." She stared at him, startled, as he leaned in towards her, his mouth crashing into hers. His lips were soft and his taste sweeter than she could have ever imagined. His hands gripped her hips and before she knew what was happening, he had pulled her onto him so she was straddling his lap. The kiss became hungrier as lips parted and tongues explored. It was as if nothing had existed before this moment, as if nothing would after it.

Her hands caressed either side of his face as her body pressed closer against his. He breathed a soft moan into her as she gently bit his bottom lip. When they pulled away, his eyes never moved from hers. The desire and love behind them left her gasping.

"You're so beautiful, Morgan. Inside and out." Her lips found his again before he could continue. Pulling away, she stood up and looked down at him, reaching out her hand for his.

"Stay the night with me." His eyes widened slightly at the request, and there was the briefest of hesitations before he placed his hand in hers, taking her up on the offer. She led him to her bedroom. He followed, his lips trailing down her back of her neck as they reached the bed.

"I love you," he said. The words were almost lost against the heat of her skin. She turned to face him, putting his hands around her waist. She planted small kisses along his jawline until she reached his ear.

"Then make love to me."

* * *

She begin to unbutton his shirt slowly, as he registered what was happening. That this was happening. Hours ago he was near death and now, as he peeled away her clothes layer by intoxicating layer, he was on the verge of heaven. They sunk down on the mattress, nothing between them but hope.

He felt her heart beat and her body tremble, all in the opposite way of how they did earlier when darkness faced them. Her skin was soft and inviting. Her cries of pleasure were better than any song he had ever heard. The way she surrounded him: her sound, her scent, her body; it sent him to a new place of ecstasy he had never known before. If this was heaven, he would spend eternity wrapped in her arms.

He woke up later to her body nestled against his. She said he made her feel safe, and he intended on keeping it that way, resting his arm protectively around her. Yesterday, he realized how fleeting forever could be. Today, he realized how much he wanted his small forever to only be with her.

* * *

Six months ago, he had told her he loved her and then showed her how much. He ran a finger along the fading scar on his forehead. The harshness of it clashed with his tailored suit, but honestly, that was the last thing on his mind. He reached into his pocket for the hundredth time that night, feeling the velvet covering of the small box again, confirming its presence and his resolution. He watched her smile that stunning smile as the waiter thank them for their wine order. She was more beautiful than he had ever seen her before, her features glowing softly in the candlelight. Six months ago, he had told her. Tonight. Tonight, he was going to ask her. Tomorrow, their forever would begin.


	15. Chapter 15

**The Road Trip (Part one of two) -I miss my favorite ship so I wrote a new story. Hope you like it. Will upload the other half soon.**

"You're going the wrong way," Morgan said, sitting in the passenger seat shaking her head as she looked at the GPS on her phone.

"Thanks but I've been in Nevada a little long than you and know my way around just a little better. This is the short cut. The turn is coming up. Just have some patience," Greg gritted, gripping the steering wheel tighter as he searched for what he hoped was the right street. It had been a while since he had been to Reno.

"Fine. Be stubborn, but don't forget: I have the map." She gave a smug smile as she waved her iPhone in the air. Greg's gaze shifted in her direction. Lifting one hand off the steering wheel, he grabbed her phone and tossed it in the backseat before she could protest.

"And now you don't," he retorted, smirking at Morgan's shocked expression that he caught out of the corner of his eye.

"You will pay for that, Sanders." Her eyes narrowed before she unbuckled and leaned over the console in search of the device. Greg's focus drifted off the road ever so slightly as Morgan's perfect backside squirmed next to him while she was in hot pursuit of her phone. Of course fate would tempt him. This whole trip would be nothing but a test of his control, especially after the stern- albeit intimidating- warning from Ecklie about watching out for Morgan. _This is a business trip, Sanders. Remember that if you want a job to come home to._ The sheriff's words still rang clearly in his head, putting the fear of God in him. A blaring horn startled him back to looking at the road, just in time to swerve out of the way of a Chevy truck barreling towards them.

The tires squealed as they met the gravelly dirt edging the highway. Morgan matched their scream, tumbling head first into the backseat. Greg threw the car into park and gulped down a ragged breath.

"Are you okay?" He turned around to check on Morgan, who glared back up at him from the floorboard.

"I've been better," she said through clenched teeth. "What the hell was that?" Embarrassed, Greg looked away before explaining.

"Dog… in the middle of the road," he lied. Morgan shot him a cautious eye, brow arching, as she climbed back into the passenger seat. Flipping down the overhead mirror, she smoothed down her hair while inspecting her appearance.

"Maybe I should drive."

"No way," Greg scoffed. "Besides, you don't know the short cut." His returning smirk met Morgan's own.

"Maybe not, but I do still have the map, despite your attempt to foil me." She gave him a look of triumph and he laughed, throwing his hands up in surrender.

A few minutes later,Morgan adjusted the driver's seat. She playfully stuck her tongue out at Greg as she reset the rearview mirror. He responded by rolling his eyes, although the action wasn't enough to hide the laughter in them.

She turned the key, ready to get rolling. Finally. Except the engine only sputtered and died. She tried again. Still nothing. Third time's a charm, right? Not this time.

"Damn!" she exclaimed, slamming her palm on the top of the steering wheel in frustration.

"See. Even the car knows better than to let you drive." Greg hopped out before the heat of Morgan's angry glower could hit him. He popped the hood, inspecting the engine. Not that he actually had a clue what the hell he was doing, but Morgan didn't need to know that.

She stood off to the side, arms crossed, as Greg made his own attempt to start the defunct vehicle.

He frowned with each failed try. "Okay, maybe it's not just you."

"You think?" Sarcasm oozed out of her mouth. "I'm calling a tow truck. It will be dark soon, and as much as I enjoy your company, Greg, I'd rather not die together tonight."

An hour later, a pot bellied gentleman in a stained mechanic's jumper a size too small finally finished hooking up the Denali to the back of the tow truck.

"So where to, folks?" he asked, wiping his hands on his greasy coveralls. Morgan and Greg exchanged a brief wary glance.

"No idea. Where are we exactly?" Greg asked.

"Duckwater, Nevada," Morgan read off the name from the map on her GPS.

The tow truck driver smiled a yellowed grin. "Best small town in Nevada. You two looking for some entertainment tonight? The Leaping Lizard is the place to be. Best draft deals in all of Duckwater." He winked a wrinkled eye at Morgan, who shifted uncomfortably under his gaze as she smiled back uneasily.

She turned to Greg. "After today, I could really use a beer. And you could buy me one to make up for trying to kill me back there." Greg sucked his teeth.

"Alright. It's not like this day could get any worst." He opened the door to the tow truck, allowing her to step in. "Actually, it's starting to look up. I don't have to worry about you driving any more." The side of his lip curled up.

Morgan scowled. "Make that two beers."

* * *

The music was loud, but the stench of smoke overpowered it, both fighting for control of the dominant sense. Lighting was low, only coming from the twinkling strings of them lining various parts of the ceiling. Behind the bar, there was more of a hazy glow coming from an overhead fixture, although it didn't make the situation any better. This was obviously the roughest side of hicksville, heavyset and heavily bearded bikers being most of the crowd.

"Well, Fat Al really knows the swanky places," Greg muttered under his breath to Morgan as they grabbed a table in the back.

"Geez, Greg, aren't you a snob? Would have never pegged you as one either." Morgan brought the cold bottle of beer to her lips.

"What are you talking about? Morgan, this bar is clearly a dive." Greg eyed the patrons around them.

Morgan waved her free hand in his direction as she downed the refreshing beverage. "Please. I played worst places than this when I was in my band back in college."

Greg's eyebrows raised in surprise. "I didn't know you were in a band."

Morgan nodded scoping out the stage as someone set up the karaoke machine. "Sure, I was lead singer. I'll sing something for you if you have any requests." She gestured towards the sign that said Karaoke Night - walk ons welcome.

Greg glanced at it and then back at Morgan. "Surprise me." He smirked.

And she did. Did she ever. Was that soulful rendition of Natural Woman really coming out of Morgan? God, she was good. No, she was great. How had he never heard her sing before? She sent a smile to him as her blue eyes met his brown ones when she hit the chorus again.

"Damn, she's a hot piece." The comment of a biker at the table next to him threw off his concentration. That was when he looked around the bar and realized everyone was watching Morgan. She had the audience mesmerized.

"Hey, how did I do?" She snuck up on him as the thunder of applause and whoops and hollers began dying down.

"Impressively great. I had no idea you could sing like that." He awed, watching her shrug off the compliment shyly. She was just about to say something when a drunken tattooed man built like a linebacker brushed up against her.

"Hey sweetheart," he said taking a strand of her hair and twirling it around a finger. "How's about you and me get out of here? I know all the best motels in town."

Greg's hand was on the guy's shoulder before he could think better of it. "Leave her alone," he sneered.

"Is this scarecrow your boyfriend, sweetheart? Because you can do better. You could have a real man like me." The biker wagged his brows as Morgan pulled from his grasp in disgust. She took hold of Greg's hands and whipped him around to face her. Her lips covered his before he could react or comprehend. She tasted as sweet as honey and he was desperate for more. Her tongue ran over the seam of his bottom lip, and he released a small moan as his mouth parted open giving her entrance. In reality, it was probably only a few seconds, but it felt like a lifetime had occurred within the moment of that kiss. Morgan pulled away from Greg, his wide eyed expression registering nothing but blissful shock. Morgan's gaze was set over his shoulder.

"Oh trust me, he's all real. Now get lost," she said to the biker behind him who got the message and walked away.

"Your loss." He heard the gruff voice say as it moved farther in the distance. Morgan looked back at him now and smiled.

"How about another beer?" she asked. He stared at her incredulously before offering a small nod. What the hell just happened?

* * *

 _This is a business trip. She is your colleague. Your coworker. An incredible kisser._ Greg winced as he unpacked his suitcase in the dingy motel room. It had been less than hour since they left the bar, and despite his resolve to keep their relationship purely professional, he couldn't stop thinking about her in a sensual sense. Like the way her hair fell silkily around her shoulders framing her beautiful face. Or how her pouty lips were as soft as they looked. Shit. He was way in over his head. A knock on the door brought him momentarily out of his despair until he opened the door and saw her on the other side, standing there wearing nothing but a tank top and pajama bottoms. Screw being way in over his head. He was destined to drown. And she would be what consumed him.

"This is like the beginning of every horror movie." She stepped in wheeling her suitcase behind her. Greg shut the door, taking in a deep breath as the sight of the slight slip of lacy underwear peeked at the top of her pants.

"Yeah, and every porno too," he muttered under his breath.

"What was that?" she turned to face him.

"Nothing," he coughed glancing down to avoid eye contact and in doing so caught a glimpse of her luggage.

"Morgan," he hedged, "what are you doing here?"

She looked around nervously, wringing her hands. "Okay, Greg. I'm going to tell you something about me that never leaves this room. Got it?"

"Sure." His smile made a small grimace instead. He wasn't sure where this was going but it couldn't be good. Well, maybe for his love life, but definitely not his career.

"I have a small- we are talking tiny, here- fear of dark motel rooms ripped from a slasher film...oh, and spiders." She raised her sad, pitifully beautiful eyes to meet his. "Can I please stay with you tonight?"

Greg heaved a sigh. Yep, torture. This would be pure torture.

"Sure." He smiled at her. "I'll just sleep on the roll-away."

"Oh, you don't have to do that," Morgan said unconvincingly as she pulled back the covers on the queen bed in the room and crawled underneath them.

A few minutes later she called out to him on the low to the floor mattress."Thank you, Greg," she whispered.

"Any time," he answered.

"Greg?"

"Yeah?"

"I still can't sleep. Do you want to watch a movie with me?"

"Sure," came the hesitant reply. He heard her turn on the rickety television facing the bed and saw the light spill out from the corner of the bed frame that blocked his vision. "What are you watching?"

Her angelic face popped into view then, staring down at him. "Get up here."

"Huh?"

"Get up on the bed. You can't see a damned thing down there on the floor." She patted the empty space beside her. Reluctantly -and secretly happily- Greg got up and moved to lay next to Morgan, still trying his best to keep his distance.

A romance comedy filled the small screen across from them. They sat in silence for a while watching the movie until the couple in the feature began an intense make out session. Greg's gaze shifted ever so slightly towards Morgan, watching her delicate features light up different colors with the glow of the television.

"Are we going to talk about it?" he asked before he could stop himself.

"Talk about what?" she asked, her eyes lifting from the film to Greg.

"That kiss. I mean, that was some kiss." He rushed through the words and cringed as the sound of them hit his ears. He was a complete idiot!

Morgan's mouth grew into a grin. "You seem to find a lot of things impressive about me tonight, Sanders."

"Never mind. Forget I said anything," he mumbled, focusing his attention back on the television. He felt her lips bristle against his neck as they made their way to his ear. His whole body stiffened. She was so close. He could smell the lilac soap on her skin.

"I find it hard to forget anything you say or do. And yes, that kiss was pretty _impressive_." He jerked his head to look at her, jaw dropping. Her smile seemed almost playfully seductive as she laid back down on the pillow.

"Night Greg," she whispered breathily as she turned away from him and closed her eyes, bringing the covers over her. Forget torture. This was pure agonizing torment. And it had never felt so good.


	16. Chapter 16

**The Road Trip (Part 2)**

"Greg." The gentle voice tickled his ear. "Greg." It was louder now, almost lyrical. It was vaguely familiar and just the sound of it sent a surge of heat rippling through his body.

One eye opened, processing the blur of colors. Then the other opened. Two bright blue orbs stared back at him, accompanied by a mischievous grin.

"Hey Sunshine," Morgan said looking down at him. Greg's gaze shifted, giving her a once over glance. She was already dressed in a shirt with a loud geometric print and some dark denim jeans. Her polished fingers ruffled his hair. "You are so cute when you sleep, especially with that little bit of drool on the side of your mouth. You also say the sweetest things when you're dreaming. Adorable. I almost hated to wake you."

He groaned and buried his face in the pillow. Suddenly the long night before came flashing back. The bar scene with that jackass biker. That kiss. Oh God, that kiss had run through his mind all night, along with other unrealized fantasies. Shit. What the hell had he said in his sleep? Based on the pieces of the dream he could recall, it had to be something completely humiliating. He glanced over to the other end side of the bed and then down to the floor where the rollaway laid.

"Did I sleep here? I mean, did we sleep together?" he asked catching the smirk growing on Morgan's full lips.

"Relax," she said eyeing the pillow he was now gripping to the point of almost ripping, the tension knotting the muscles in his back. "Nothing happened."

Was that a touch of sadness he heard in that last comment or had he just imagined it? Like how he had imagined her small lithe body beneath his, her soft curves- He shook his head. He had to get control of himself. This was a business trip. As in a job, one that he would hopefully like to keep.

He rose quickly and made his way to his suitcase praying she wouldn't noticed how aroused he was. He rushed off to the bathroom and closed the door. He rested his hands on the countertop and his forehead on the mirror. Staring at his reflection, he sent a silent warning. Get it together, Sanders. That can _never_ happen.

* * *

"You ran out of gas. Fuel gauge was broken," said the tattooed mechanic who had hit on Morgan the night before as he rang up the bill. "Probably lucky you ran off the road when you did or you would have been stuck in the middle of it. Not that I would let anything happen to a pretty young thing like you."

Morgan inched closer to Greg as he fished out his wallet. He looked up to see the slimy smile of the mechanic who eyes were clearly undressing Morgan. Greg reached his arm around her shoulder and drew in her into his side. He pressed his lips to the crown of her head as his gaze challenged the hard glare of the grease monkey running his credit card.

"Thanks for your help," he said, still holding eye contact. "Why don't you go to the car, babe?" he whispered to Morgan who nodded and kissed his cheek lightly before walking away from the mechanic's dangerous eye to the safety of the Denali.

Greg collected his card and receipt from the guy.

"Bet she's a wild one in the sack." The mechanic winked and shook his head laughing. Greg gave a tightlipped smile, his eyes cold. He pressed his palms flat on the counter as he met the other man's gaze.

"By the way, if you ever go near her again, I swear I will kill you. I'm in law enforcement. They'll never find the body." Greg's eyes flickered one more warning to the wayward auto repairman before he also walked away.

Making his way to the car, his brow beaded with sweat. Had he just threatened murder? To a six feet four inch jackass with biceps bigger than his head? Shit. This crush on Morgan wasn't just going to cost him his career, but also his life. He needed to get her out of his head.

* * *

They reached their destination a little past noon. Morgan had entertained him the whole way with hilarious stories of Ecklie's bumbling goofs as a dad when she was growing up. It was good to know he wasn't the only screw up in the department. Well, aside from Hodges. He was having such a good time; he felt a twinge of sadness when they pulled into the Reno Police Department parking lot.

At first the case had looked like a simple drug deal got bad, but on second glance, the Reno CSIs noticed some similarities to the markings and odd objects found around the body and a slew of murders that had happened in Vegas ten years prior. Another serial killer on the loose, returned to scratch the itch in another Nevada town. At least, that was what the supervisor at the station had told them, explaining the need for their careful judgment call.

They spent the rest of the day combing over the boxes of evidence and comparing the notes they had brought with them about the previous cases. There definitely seemed to be a connection. And Greg couldn't help but notice it was between Morgan and Randy, one of the lead CSIs for Reno PD.

She giggled at Randy's cheesy jokes, while Greg rolled his eyes. Where did the guy get his material? The back of a cereal box? Seriously! How could Morgan laugh at such dribble? And the way she was batting her eyes at that pompous jokester was ridiculous. Sure, he was tall and muscular with dark features. And, actually if Greg squinted and looked at him in just the right light, Randy did resemble Nick a lot. But still, how could she so obviously flirt with this guy and right in front of him? Didn't she know how he felt about her?

Greg closed his eyes and groaned. Of course, she didn't because he had never told and never would. She was off limits. He scolded himself when Morgan shot a funny look his way as she and Randy both now stared at him.

"Greg, are you okay?" she asked, concern written all over her sweet face.

"I'm fine," he rasped, hoarsely. "I just need some air." He turned, holding his breath, and walked out of the room and away from the temptation that was Morgan Brody.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Morgan found him by the car finishing up a conversation with Catherine on the phone.

"Hey," she walked up smiling. "Randy just invited us out to dinner. He said he'd show us the town."

Greg folded his arms over his chest and huffed. "I bet he did."

Morgan scrunched her eyebrows, studying him. "Okay, what's going on? You have been acting strange ever since we got here." She tapped her foot mirroring his stand-offish pose.

He sighed, relaxing his stance into a sad slouch. "It's nothing. If you want to go out with Randy, go ahead. I won't get in your way. Just please don't tell me anything about your date afterwards. A guy can only handle so much."

Morgan cocked her head to the side, staring at him, smirking. "Date? Greg, what are you talking about?"

"I saw the way you two were back in the lab. I know flirting when I see it. I'm paid to be observant, Morgan. It's kind of my area of expertise," he said, focusing on the ground as he kicked the dirt with his shoe.

Morgan stifled a small laugh. "Greg, Randy's gay."

Greg looked up at her. "What?"

"Yeah, he's taking his boyfriend to Vegas next month to propose. He just asked me where would be the best place to do it." Her grin grew as he felt his cheeks flame with heat.

"Oh!"

"Maybe you need a refresher course on your supposed area of expertise," she teased poking his chest with her finger. "I mean, you're acting like some jealous boyfriend…" Her mouth dropped as realization struck her. "Oh My God! You're jealous!"

His eyes went wide. "No I'm not." He moved past her fast on the way to the driver's side of the car. She hopped in the passenger's seat and seemed no where near dropping the topic.

"You are so jealous." He felt her stare as he started the car and began backing out. "How come you've never said anything before?" she continued.

He blew out a puff of air before facing her. "Look, Morgan. I like you. Hell, I might even love you, but nothing can happen between us. We work together. Your dad is my boss." He turned his eyes back to the road.

"So you don't want to even try?" The pain rippled her voice, shooting a dagger right through his heart. She wanted him too. His free hand reached for hers.

"Nothing good could come out of it. Someone is just going to get hurt." He choked on the words as he said them, hoping somehow saying it aloud would confirm the truth. Strengthen his resolve. Instead it just dug the knife deeper.

He felt her bring his hand to her lips, kissing along the knuckles. He shot a glance in her direction.

"I've always believed an hour of pleasure could be worth a lifetime of pain, but only if it was with the right person." The gleam in her eyes danced playfully under her thick lashes. He sucked in a deep breath. He was goner. Those blue eyes did him in everytime.

* * *

They had two rooms reserved at the hotel, but at that moment, they only needed one. He drank her in her floral scent as she lifted his shirt over his head, her hands running down the lines and angles of his bare chest, the pads of her fingers hovering just above the hem of his pants.

His lips traced the outline of her delicate neck, inching lower with each button he undid of her blouse. He slid the straps of her bra over her shoulders as his dark eyes met her light ones. The desire in them was a like magnet and it was futile to resist. His mouth took control of hers as his hands ran along the curves of her smooth flesh. His breath hitched when he pulled back and took in her half naked form for the first time. This was happening. Despite everything he had berated himself about, his dream, his fantasy, was about to become a reality.

She moved her hands down to his pants' buckle. She undid it and slowly pulled them and his boxers down, springing him free from his confinement. Her hands caressed the length of him and his eyes shut, taking in her touch.

"God, Morgan! You're going to make this hour go way too fast," he rasped, his hands clinging to her elbows as her lips glided along his collarbone, gently sucking.

"I guess you better stop me then," she whispered, teasing her lips against his ear. She let out a small gasp when he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder as he made his way to the bed. Tenderly, he laid her down and removed the rest of her clothes, taking careful measures to slither her lacy thong down her thighs as he rubbed them before tossing the garment to the floor.

His body covered hers. His mouth dominated hers. But she was the one in control. In control of the pace of their kisses. In control of the movements his hips made against hers as her hands grasped at his lower back, digging in. In control of his heart as it beat out the rhythm of her name. In control of his soul, his life, his future. She was in control of everything. From the moment he slid the condom on and then slid into her, she was everything. She was everything before and she would be everything afterwards, because despite all of it, he could never let her go. Not now. Not ever.

He felt the pressure building at a rapid rate. He was so close, and from the looks and sounds of it, so was she. She bit her lip as she moaned, arching into him. It sent him spiraling over the edge, the pleasure blinding him to all his other senses. He stiffened, trembling, as the aftershocks tore through him.

He laid his head against the softness of her breasts as he caught his breath, rising and falling in sync with her.

After he felt calm again, he rolled over pulling her into the crook of his arm.

"I hope you come to my funeral after your father kills me, and on my headstone, I want it to say that I died in the arms of an angel." Greg lightly kissed her forehead. Morgan laughed.

"My dad is not going to kill you. He might rough you up a bit, but believe it or not, he actually likes you. In fact, I'd venture so far as to say he respects you."

"I'm sorry. Come again? It sounded like you said your dad respects me, but I know that can be right. The man practically chewed my head off about trying anything with you on this trip." He ran his fingers up and down the side of her arm that was draped over him.

Morgan sighed. "That's only because I got in a big fight with him before we left. I might have suggested that I would try to seduce you."

"Morgan! What the hell?" Greg sat up. "Is that what this was?"

She look horrified. "No! Greg, no. I told him I like you and that I might ask you out. He's my dad. He knew this would probably become something serious if I acted on it. I'm his baby girl. He's just trying to keep me from getting hurt, but he can't put me in a bubble my whole life. Anyway, the conversation got heated and might have gotten out of hand."

"Really? So why didn't you ask me out?" Greg grinned.

Morgan rolled her eyes. "Well, I kissed you and you didn't exactly kiss me back so I figured you didn't feel the same way."

"Well, that's because I'm an idiot. I promise from now on, I will always kiss you back," he said leaning down to her. She teased his lips with hers as he pulled her on top of him.

The kiss was slow and hungry. When they pulled away, their eyes connected.

"How about round two?" Greg said slyly wagging his brows. Morgan laughed and leaned in for another kiss.

* * *

"So how was the trip, you two?" Catherine greeted them both with a hug upon their return. "Looks like you both made it back in one piece so that's good."

Morgan and Greg exchanged a knowing glance. The gesture not completely lost on their new supervisor.

"It had its up and downs, but we accomplished a lot." Morgan smiled.

"Yeah, we're ready for what ever else you've got for us, Boss," Greg winked.

Catherine eyed them both, smiling. "Great. Glad to hear it. First you can tell Ecklie and HR that you're dating. Then come meet me in the conference room. I got a string of robberies I need help solving." With that, she turned and strolled down the hall.

"Oh, she's good,"Greg said. Morgan took his hand and kissed his cheek.

"Yep. Come on, Boyfriend. We have work to do."


	17. Chapter 17

**A Convenient Marriage (part 1)**

Greg read the requirements of the will for his grandfather's estate once more, throwing an incredulous raised brow the executor's way as he flipped through the pages.

"This has to be a joke. This can't be real," he said, scoffing as he threw the bundle of paper onto the lawyer's large mahogany desk. His mother, sitting next to him, patted his hand timidly, also sending a wayward eye in the attorney's direction.

"Sorry Mr. Sanders, but it's there in clear print. You don't receive your inheritance until you marry." The man in the dark grey suit straighten his tie as he spoke.

Greg rolled his eyes before letting the heat of his gaze settle on his mother. "Did you put him up to this?" His voice was clipped and strained. He wouldn't lose his cool, he told himself. But he was on the edge.

"What? Greg, honey, no! Not that I wouldn't love to see you married with maybe a few grandkids," his mother spoke, studying her hands as not to meet his glare, "but this was all your Papa Olaf's doing. He only wanted what was best for you, dear. I guess he thought this would be it."

Greg sighed. Of course he did. He was always needling him about marriage and snooping to know more about girlfriends. He felt a searing pang of guilt over blaming the man who had given him so much when he was alive for not leaving him anything tangible in death. At least for the foreseeable future. Normally, he wouldn't have let it get to him. Normally, he would have shrugged it off as another crazy antic by Papa Olaf, but normally, he wasn't in such desperate need for money.

He had invested his entire savings into restoring a foreclosed house. Driving by it on a daily basis for years, he had always dreamed on owning it, and now his dream was a reality. A nightmare of a reality, really. While the structure was gorgeous, the previous owners had done serious damage to the interior that needed immediate repair. His finances were basically drained, and the house was no where near what he imagined it to be one day. But he loved it all the same. The thought of selling it- at a loss, no less- tore at him. However, it was looking more and more like he would have no choice, this new revelation being just another nail in the coffin of his goal.

Greg blinked back the tears that came when he remembered his grandfather and his sage advice: from taking responsible for his actions (lying in the bed one has made) to always pursuing his dreams (advocating for him against his parents when he switched from a lab tech to a CSI). God, how he missed that man. That loving, infuriating, and irritating man.

* * *

Morgan sat in the break room frowning at the extensive list of items on her credit card bill. How did she manage to spend so much in just a month? Guess the same way she did last month and the month before that. Ugh! She had to get this under control. She had started seeing a therapist to help her cope with her slight shopping addiction, but at a hundred dollars an hour, she obviously wasn't getting anything out of it but more debt. Fabulous. She glanced down at her new stylish heels and sighed. Maybe she needed to return some things or she wouldn't be able to pay for rent. Her roommate, Jessica, was already restless about her forking over her share of the utilities. She wondered if sweet-talking her dad into letting her move into his condo was an option. Oh My God! She was definitely in dire straits if she was even considering that.

Lost in her own thoughts, she was startled to look up and see Greg sitting across from her. His eyes were on the ceiling as he leaned back in his chair, his hands absentmindedly stirring the spoon in his coffee.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Morgan smiled as Greg looked at her now as if woken from a daze.

"Actually, I can use whatever cash you've got. My bank account is so deep in the red; it looks like a bloody crime scene." He shot her a sad tight lipped half smile.

"Thank God, it's not just me. The credit card company actually sent me two separate envelopes for my bill. I owe that much." She thrust the paperwork into the middle of the table in disgust.

Greg picked it up and let out a low whistle. "Thank you," he said, causing Morgan's expression to change to one of confusion.

"For what?" she asked.

He scanned the long bill once more before looking up at her again. "Because this makes solving my problems seem like child's play. Seriously? How did you spend so much at Neiman Marcus?" he chuckled.

Morgan snatched the bill out of his hands. "Have you ever been there? It's not hard," she retorted. "And it's not funny. I'm in a middle of a huge crisis here."

"Obviously," Greg teased. "Okay, I'm sorry. I'm in the same boat. I wish I could help…" His voice trailed off as his mind begin to scheme. His gaze wandered over Morgan. Could it work? The will never said the marriage had to be for real. Just a few signatures on a marriage certificate should do it. He shut down the part of him that whispered that maybe his intentions were for something more than money. He had been friend-zoned years ago and wasn't about to drudge up those thoughts again. But still. It would be a solution they were both in desperate need of. The only thing left to do was convince her.

"I just had a crazy idea that might work to both of our benefits if you're willing," he hesitated before moving on, waiting for her response.

"I'm listening…" She grinned, relieved to have some answer to her problem even if she didn't know what it was yet.

* * *

"Marriage? Are you insane?" She gaped at him after listening to his harebrained idea.

"Hear me out. We would just be married on paper. After a few months, we could divorce and never think about it again, but in the meantime, we would both get enough money to make all of our troubles disappear." Greg's face was so hopeful, his beautiful brown eyes lighting up. Her heart almost skipped a beat.

"How much did you say?" she said, mulling over the decision.

He sat up straighter, his gaze growing more serious. "I didn't, but it would be half a million. Two hundred and fifty thousand a piece."

Her breath hitched. Two hundred and fifty thousand? To be Mrs. Greg Sanders for a couple of months? Well, there were worse things in the world. She smiled.

"Okay, but we need to keep this our little secret. If certain people around here found out, they might not see the reasoning behind it quite the same way we do." She shot him a look as she nodded toward the sheriff's office across the hall.

Greg swallowed hard, obviously catching her drift.

"So when do you want to make it official?" he asked.

* * *

He agreed to pick her up at eight. They would get married and then have a nice dinner to celebrate their impeding windfall. It was a business transaction. Nothing more. But try telling that to his nerves. He had changed three times in the last hour before deciding on a dark gray suit. He fiddled nervously with his cufflinks as he waited outside her door. He froze when it opened, revealing Morgan standing in a soft white dress that elegantly hugged her curves and fell slightly above her knees.

He exhaled, letting his jaw drop. "Wow! You look beautiful."

"Thanks. I got it at Neiman Marcus, and now, thanks to you, I can afford to keep it." She smiled, her eyes meeting his, an unreadable gleam in them.

"Anything for my bride." His smirk fell flat as his own words hit his ears. _My bride._ A tingling sensation coursed through him. What was he doing? He shook his head, not letting his imagination get the better of him. He recovered quickly, offering her his arm as he led her to his car.

* * *

Forty minutes later, they sat uncomfortably, waiting for the ceremony in progress to end. Neither spoke, avoiding the other's gaze. Morgan bounced her crossed foot over her knee, softly humming to drown out her thoughts. Like the ones screaming at her to run or the other ones tempting her with dreams of a future with Greg that couldn't be anything but just that. Dreams. She stole a glance at him. The man who would be her husband in just a few short minutes. He looked at her. His mouth opened in anticipation of speaking but closed as a voice called to them from the entrance of the chapel. They both looked over at the smiling minister, signaling for them to follow him. Both inhaled a deep breath. Greg took her hand. This was it.

* * *

His mouth moved. It was beautiful actually. Why had she never noticed it before? How attractive the sound of his voice was, falling gently out of those lips? Her focus shifted up to his eyes. They stared at her expectantly, as did the minister's. Crap. What did he just say?

"Morgan…um, this is where you say I do," Greg said.

"Oh!" Whoops! "I do." She smiled. Greg held her hand and slipped something on her finger. Confusion washed over her until she looked down and gasped. He had placed an antique diamond ring on her finger. She raised her eyes, stunned.

Greg shrugged. "It was my grandmother's."

"Greg, I can't-" she started, but he shook his head, smiling.

"You deserve a ring, and as long as you're my wife, you'll have this one."

Staring deep into his eyes, she had begun to say something when she was interrupted.

"Well now, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride." Both turned to stare at the minister. Awkwardly, they faced each other again. Right. The kiss. They never discussed this, although, honestly, they had barely discussed the marriage.

Greg took a step toward her and leaned down. She closed her eyes feeling the heat of his breath against her mouth, and then before she could think or speak, his lips pressed into hers. It was a gentle brushing of his mouth at first. Then, in the middle of it, she realized how dry her lips must be, unconsciously licking them and his by accident. His arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer as his tongue danced with hers. Her knees went weak under his touch, and time seemed to slip away. The minister's gentle cough broke the moment, bringing them back to reality as they drew away from each other, dazed.

"Sorry to kill the mood, folks, but I do have another couple waiting."

Morgan blushed, looking down. "Of course." She ran her fingertips over her still tingling mouth. Uh-oh, this was going to be trouble. She might have deeper feelings for her husband than she originally thought.


	18. Chapter 18

**A Convenient Marriage (part 2)**

Morgan never imagined she would wake up the day after her wedding to an empty bed. But that's what happens when you marry a great guy who only sees you as a friend and drops you off at home at an appropriate hour, completely sober, leaving you with nothing more than a kiss on the cheek. She groaned covering her head with her pillow. What had she done? She heard something scrape the soft fabric of the pillowcase. She pulled the pillow down and looked at her hands, the gleam on the ring shining back at her. The memory of that kiss came flooding back. God, she was a wreck after that, acting like a giddy schoolgirl the rest of the night: giggling nervously at everything Greg said, skittishly bumping into him at every turn, dropping food on herself at the restaurant as she got lost in one of his funny stories. And Greg had been the perfect gentleman.

She stared at the gorgeously cut stone set in the beautifully etched gold band. How did she fall so hard in one day for a man she had rarely given a second glance to for years? More importantly, how was this whole situation going to play out now…now that she realized she had feelings for him? Crap. Just another whimsical move by Morgan Brody, serial impulse shopper by day, CSI by night.

A loud noise startled her thoughts. Her roommate's voice cursed shrilly from the other room.

"Morgan, what the _hell_?" Jessica called to her. Yep, never thought those would be the first words she would hear the day after her wedding. She threw back her covers and hesitantly tiptoed out into the shared living space to see what she had done this time.

"Hey, what's-" Morgan froze staring at her incensed roommate who was wrapped in a towel with shampoo dripping off her head onto her slick shoulders.

"The water shut off! While I was in the middle of a shower! I thought you had paid that." Jessica mopped her soapy hair with another towel.

"I did. I used my credit…card." Her response slowed as it dawned on her what had happened. "No….they cut off my credit card! They can't do that, can they?"

Jessica heaved a condescending sigh as she grab a water bottle from the fridge. She leaned over the sink, washing out her hair with the cold liquid. "Morgan, I can't do this anymore. I'm giving you a week, but you have got to find somewhere else to live. I need a roommate I can depend on, and Ashley has been hounding me for a while to help her find a place." Jessica shot Morgan an angry glare. "She has an excellent credit score."

Well, of course she did. She was boring and got her clothes at Good Will. Morgan rolled her eyes. "You can't kick me out. We have been roommates for years. Besides, I have a contract."

"That I now deem null and void. Seriously, Morgan, I already told Ashley she could move in."

"Jessica, what the _hell_? You already told her? Before you even talked to me?" Morgan's felt the hurt wash through her as her body instinctively reacted, her right hand resting protectively over her heart.

Jessica gave her a pitying look. "You knew this was coming. I already told you the late cable bill was the final straw."

"But-"

"I missed the season finale of The Walking Dead because of you." Jessica wrapped the towel around her wet head. "There is no discussion on this. You have until Friday. I'm sorry, Morgan, but a girl can only deal with so much." And with that, Jessica walked back into her bedroom, slamming the door in her wake. Morgan stood stunned in the middle of the living room, willing herself not to cry. It was the day after her wedding, after all.

* * *

Greg watched her out of the corner of his eye as they collected evidence from the scene. She had been on the phone for the last fifteen minutes, and from the look on her face, it wasn't good news. All night she had seemed distant. The day before felt like it had been just a dream, more so now that they hadn't even mentioned it since the shift started. Greg also couldn't help but notice she wasn't wearing his grandmother's ring. He quickly chastised himself about getting upset over it. It was suppose to be a secret, and they were at work, with very observant co-workers. It was nothing. No big deal. It meant nothing, he scolded as his heart tried to tell him otherwise. Morgan drudged back over to him after ending the call, confirming his suspicions something was definitely amiss.

"What wrong?" he asked as she knelt down to help him bag the trace from the floor.

"Nothing, except for the fact that I'm going to be homeless in five days, eleven hours, and," she glanced at her watch, " fifty two minutes."

"Wow, your landlord must be a real stickler." He shook his head.

"No, my soon-to-be-ex roommate is." She sighed.

"So why does that make you homeless? I've seen some great apartments not far from the lab. Great pricing too."

"Yeah, if you have good credit, which the manager of that particular complex just informed me that I don't." Morgan gave Greg a sad smile. "Um, not to seem greedy, but when did you say your inheritance check would come in?"

"It will probably take at least a month to process everything." He sent a sympathetic shrug. "But you are welcome to stay at my place in the meantime. Although I have to warn you, I'm in the middle of remodeling so everything is a mess."

He looked over at her when she didn't respond, catching her staring at him. A smile spread across her face.

"Really? That would be great." She threw her arms around him, enveloping him in a giant hug. "You have no idea how much this means to me. God, Greg, you're the best!" She kissed his cheek, sending heat rushing to his skin where her lips had touched. She pulled back, their eyes suddenly locking in a lingering look. She broke the stare first, glancing down as she tucked a strand of hair behind an ear.

The silence grew uncomfortable. Greg coughed.

"So…" he said, smiling.

"So…" she repeated, surveying the rest of the room. "I should probably work the other side of the scene, Roomie." She grinned, hauling her kit with her to the next room. Damn, she was sexy in an impossibly cute way. His mind wandered as he watched her walk away in those snug black pants. He shook his head, centering himself. They were just friends, he told himself. Friends, who were now roommates. Married roommates. Wow, their relationship status was becoming more complicated by the minute. Greg couldn't help but smile thinking about it, wondering what might happen next.

* * *

Morgan checked the address twice before knocking. She knew Greg had recently bought a house, but this place looked like a mansion. It was large, at least two stories, with a stucco and stone exterior. It needed some repairs, here or there, and a serious landscaping overhaul, but the place was fantastic. Intimidatingly so. Obviously Greg had high standards, and in her experiences with other roommates, she had always failed to meet expectations. What if she screwed up? Would Greg kick her out too? Somehow, she knew his rejection would wound her deeper than the others.

Greg opened the door, smiling and looking like his usual charming self. Well, except for the new scruff along his jawline and the slight shag to his hair. That was new. He certainly didn't look like that on their fake wedding day, but that had been a week ago. Seven stress filled days later, now she had time to notice little things like that.

He welcomed her into the house.

"Sorry, it's still under construction," he said catching her wary look at all the tarps, tools, and scraps scattered around the place. "The only inhabitable spaces right now are the kitchen, master bedroom and bath, and the first guest room down the hall." He motioned to a doorway a few feet away, Morgan's room for the time being.

Looking around at the mess, Morgan plastered on a smile. "Sure, no problem. I'm just grateful for somewhere to sleep other than a park bench."

Greg helped her unpack the small UHaul she brought. Soon the guest room-her room- was starting to feel cozy and comfortable. She thank him, and he suggested they take a break, inviting her to have a beer with him on the back porch.

She relaxed into one of the porch chairs, sipping on a Corona, letting the exhaustion of the day fade away.

"This place is really great, Greg. I can see why you bought it, even if we all thought you were crazy when you did." She brought the bottle back to her lips, draining it.

"Thanks," Greg shrugged looking around as he sat in another chair, nursing his own beer. "It has a certain appeal, you know. When I first moved to Vegas, I used to drive by it everyday on the way to work and I would think about how one day it would be kind of nice to raise a family here. In this neighborhood. In this house. But that never happened," he smiled almost sadly, "so when it came on the market right after my fortieth birthday, I took it as a sign and made an offer. I might not get the whole package but at least I have the house, as long as it's not condemned before I finish the remodel."

Morgan nodded, studying him quietly. "I know what you mean, but for me it's kind of the opposite."

Greg arched an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

She stared off into the distance, watching the sun set as she spoke. "Well, I think you've figured out by now that I have a slight spending problem-

"No kidding," Greg laughed. Morgan glanced and him, eyes narrowed, unamused. Greg's expression turned sheepish. "Sorry,"he said, "you were saying?"

Morgan shifted her focus back to the sky. "I have a spending problem, okay? But what you don't know is why I do it. I'll get a wedding invitation or a birth announcement in the mail or see pictures of friends with their kids and husbands online, and I just feel something tighten in my chest. I then get this sudden urge to leave and go for a drive, which more often than not, leads to some store. And then I buy things, things I don't need, sometimes things I don't even want, just because I can. I don't go home to a husband who will judge me for it…" She turned to Greg, realizing the awkwardness of her words given their new situation. "Well, I didn't. I guess I kind of do now." She flashed him a teasing grin. "I guess I buy crap to prove to myself that I'm okay with the fact that my personal life is going nowhere fast. I'm not even sure if I want the whole family thing or not. I just feel like there's something missing sometimes, you know."

"Wow, you have some amazing inner perspective going on there. I'm impressed. And just so you know, I won't judge you anymore. I'll try to be more of the supportive husband you're not sure you want."

Morgan smiled, raising the fresh beer to her lips. "Thanks that means a lot. By the way, you are giving me way too much credit. I spent five sessions and five hundred dollars on a therapist to realize my shortcomings. Too bad the session over how to actually change the behavior came at the same time my credit card became permanently defunct. Now I'll never know."

Greg chuckled. He raised the neck of his bottle to clink with hers. "To screwed up finances and poor decisions."

"Hear, hear." She sipped her drink, watching Greg. He looked sexy in his sweats with his hair grown out a little, the fading sunlight hitting him at all the right angles. How could she have never noticed before? Her heart seemed to pick up speed. How was she going to keep herself from noticing from here on out?

* * *

Their first week living together was pleasant enough. Greg learned Morgan was a better cook than she let on, making breakfast for them most mornings after shift. She was funny too, entertaining him with random commentary as they watched tv together, or sharing stories as they hung out on the patio after a long day working on making some part of the house more livable. He liked having her around. It made him realize how lonely he had been before.

Somehow, they had both managed to get Saturday off. Morgan suggested that to celebrate they should finally tackle painting the living room. Greg was setting up the rollers and paint when Morgan strolled in wearing a faded tank top and cut off shorts. He sucked in a deep breath before just the sight of her threaten to steal it. Shit, was she trying to kill him? Surely she knew what kind of effect she had on men, especially him. But by the seemingly innocent smile she flashed him, maybe she didn't.

"Ready?" she said, grabbing a brush. "I love painting, and if any room needs it, it's this one." She made a face surveying the purple walls. "Were the previous owners colorblind?"

Greg laughed. "Apparently."

"So what are your plans for tonight?" Morgan rolled a streak of gray paint over the horrid purple.

"I was thinking about having a hot date with a beautiful woman." Greg teased, smirking. Morgan frowned.

"Oh, really? And who is this woman? Does she know that you have a wife at home?"

Wait a minute. Was she jealous? Greg glanced over at her. She was fuming, and it was hilarious. She really had no idea he was talking about her. He couldn't pass up this opportunity. He had to milk it for all it was worth.

"Not sure about that. I've known her for a while though. She's a cute blonde with a great ass." He wagged his eyebrows at Morgan, who narrowed her eyes. Then a slow smile spread across her face. What was she up to?

Greg felt the paint hit his face and clothes before he registered Morgan flicking the brush.

"Oh is that so? Well, make sure you clean up real good. With all that gray in your hair, she's liable to think you're older than you say." She smiled sweetly and then went back to painting the wall as if nothing had happened. Yeah, she wasn't going to get away with that. This was war.

Greg walked quietly in her direction, the paint still dripping off him. Morgan saw him coming towards her, doing a double take. "You'll pay for that, Brody." He gave her a devilish grin.

"No, don't you dare," she squealed as she attempted to run before he could catch her. She tripped over the handle of one of the rollers, falling to the floor. Greg saw his chance and tackled her, pinning her down as he rubbed his face against hers, smearing wet paint along her cheek as she squirmed.

"Don't," she giggled as he tickled her into submission. "Stop, you'll give me old man beard burn." God, she was adorable. Her body arched against him, quickening his growing arousal.

Greg stilled, causing Morgan to open her clenched eyes, meeting his stare. Their noses were touching and Greg moved to lower his lips onto hers. She let out a small gasp in anticipation, but before he could initiate the kiss, a loud knock at the door broke the moment.

They laid there a second longer, in stunned silence as the knocking continued.

"You should probably get that." Morgan nodded toward the entry way.

Greg swallowed hard, leaning back on his knees. "Yeah, I should," he said making a conscious effort to stand. What the hell was he doing? They were co-workers. Worst, they were roommates. Uncomfortable awkwardness was the last thing they needed. He ran a hand through his hair, only to pull it back in disgust when he remembered his hair was still slick with paint. He jogged to the front door, trying to shake Morgan from his thoughts. When he opened the door, their interaction a moment ago became the last thing on his mind.

"Mom! What are you doing here?"

The older woman scowled staring back at her son. Frown lines creased around her eyes.

"I'm here to drop off your inheritance check. I went to finish settling your grandfather's estate when I was informed that you met the requirements needed for your share. I guess congratulations are in order."

She practically spat the last part at him, hurt radiating from her glaring eyes.

Shit. Shit. Shit. He had never meant for her to find out this way. Hell, he had never meant for her to find out at all.

"Mom, I'm -"

"Greg?" He closed his eyes hearing Morgan behind him. Great, as if this couldn't get any worse. He turned to face her.

"Morgan, this is my mother. Mom, this is Morgan. My wife."

Morgan's eyes shot open wide as she took in their guest at the door.

"Hi," she squeaked extending her hand. "So nice to finally meet you Mrs. Sanders."

Greg's mother raised an eyebrow, and Greg realized then how they must have looked: covered in paint, their hair a tangled mess like they had just taken a roll in the sack. "Same here, dear. But seeing how we are both Mrs. Sanders now, maybe you should just call me Ann." The woman turned to Greg. "I hope you don't mind me staying for a bit." Greg sucked in a breath as he noticed her suitcase resting by her feet. A sly smile grew on her lips. "I would love the chance to get to know my new daughter-in-law a little better."

 **Sorry, this story is going to be longer than I thought. A three part-er? Maybe four? Not sure yet. Anyway thanks for reading and reviewing.**


	19. Chapter 19

**A Convenient Marriage (Part 3)**

Morgan and Greg exchanged a glance as his mother walked into the house. Greg grabbed her suitcase.

"I'll just take this to the guest room. Make yourself at home, Mom. Morgan, can you help me out?" He steered her away from his mother toward her bedroom. She watched him bewildered as he shut the door and faced her.

"Sorry about that. My mom has my best interests at heart but you know how that goes."

"Greg, what's going on? Why are we hiding in here?"

He sighed. "I didn't tell her about our wedding. The attorney for my grandfather's estate did. She's already hurt and feels like I betrayed her. If she knows we just got married for the money, she'll contest me getting my share of the inheritance. And it will break her heart." Greg looked at her with sad pleading eyes. "I need you to do me the biggest favor and pretend that this marriage is the real deal. At least until she leaves. I can figure out how to let her down gently later."

"What are you saying, Greg? You want me to lie to your mother?" Morgan crossed her arms, glaring at him with knitted brows.

"Yes." He clasped in hands in front of him and mouthed the word "please."

Morgan gaze softened watching Greg basically grovel. "Fine. I'll do it. What do we need to do to make this believable?"

Greg grabbed a duffel bag and started ransacking her dresser drawers, stuffing clothes in it. "Well, first, you are going to have to move into my room for a couple of days-" He stopped when he picked up a lacy black thong from one of the drawers. He shot Morgan a smirk. "Nice. You can wear these tonight, if you want."

Morgan snatched the panties from him and then took the bag. "You are delusional, Greg Sanders, if you even think you are going to ever see me in these."

He leaned down and whispered in her ear. "That's alright. I'm okay with you wearing nothing at all too." Ignoring the wave of heat that coursed through her, she thumped him on the shoulder.

"Greg? Morgan? Where did you go?" Ann Sanders' voice echoed in the hallway.

"Shit!" Greg's eyes caught Morgan's. "Okay, it's showtime. Just follow my lead and pretend to be madly in love with me."

Like that would be hard. Then she heard the door opening and before she could inhale, Greg's lips were on hers. He was kissing her. Oh my God, was he kissing her. His lips were softer than she remembered, and he tasted like salty mint. Who would have thought that would be such a fantastic combination? And just as quickly as it had begun, it was over. She felt dizzy, her head lighter than before. Greg was talking. What was he saying? She looked over and saw Greg's mother standing at the door.

"Oh, hi Mrs. Sand- I mean, Ann. Sorry, we were just…" She was at a lost for words as the older woman smiled back at her.

"No need to explain, dear. I was once a newlywed myself," the elder Mrs. Sanders said.

"Mom, more than I need to know. Look, Morgan and I are going to go clean up. We'll be back in a little while." He grabbed Morgan's hand before she could protest, lugging the duffel bag with his other, and dragged her to the master bedroom.

* * *

Greg sat on the bed waiting for Morgan to emerge from the bathroom. He hadn't even thought it through when he had kissed her. He just reacted. He hadn't been ready to face his mother yet and Morgan was just standing there, staring at him with those big doe eyes and pouty lips. The door had opened and he just planted one on her before he could talk himself out of it.

It took everything he had to pull away from her. She was a magnet drawing him in, irresistibly so. And now she was sharing his room. Shit. He rubbed his eyes. He just kept falling deeper and deeper. Morgan stepped out of the bathroom, dressed in jeans and a blue sweater than matched the color of her eyes. It flattered her figure perfectly and all Greg wanted to do was rip it off of her.

She shot him a questioning look and a smirk. "What?"

He was staring and at all the wrong places. He shook his head and made eye contact. "Nothing," he gulped, his throat suddenly feeling dry.

"Well, let's go. Your mom is probably waiting." She nodded toward the bedroom door as she walked to it. "You coming?"

"Yeah." Yep, he was definitely in deep. There was no way this was going to end well.

* * *

"So how long have you two been together?" Ann Sanders smiled shifting her gaze between them. Greg choked down his glass of wine, coughing, as Morgan answered.

"Oh, we've known each other for years. We work together, but we didn't actually start dating until a few months ago. Isn't that right, sweetie?" Morgan took a bite of her pasta eyeing Greg.

"Right." He pounded on his chest with his fist, still clearing his throat as he spoke.

"A few months? Why that's awfully fast, don't you think?" His mother stared at him.

He gave a half smile and a shrug. "When you know, you know. Besides, I couldn't let her get away." He threw his arm over Morgan's shoulder. Her whole body tingled at his touch.

"Greg's such a sweetheart. You did a wonderful job raising him, Mrs. Sa- Ann." Morgan looked at her new mother-in-law, trying to seem cool and collected when all she wanted to do was scream. Things like this made her anxious. Hell, things like this made her shop.

"Thank you, dear. I always tried to instill good manners and decision making skills in my son. Glad to know one of them took."

Crap. What it just her or did the heat just spike? She looked around the kitchen, thinking of a polite way to escape when…

"Morgan?"

"Hmmm…" She turned back to Greg and his mother. Greg was as pale as a ghost. What did she miss? "I'm sorry, Ann. What did you say again?"

" I was just wondering with the impromptu marriage and all, especially with buying this big house, if I could expect grandchildren soon."

Morgan's eyes widened. She turned to Greg, but he was no help, sitting there motionless as if in the throes of a panic attack. "Umm…we really haven't talked about it." She stuffed another forkful of food in her mouth.

Ann's brow furrowed. "Oh, I see. Well, that's a shame. I keep telling Greggy here that I'm not getting any younger. I'd like to meet my grandkids before I die."

"Mom-" Greg's voice sounded like a growl.

Morgan jumped in to appease them both. " _Greggy_ and I have just been so busy with the renovations," she patted his hand, drawing his attention to her, "I'm sure kids aren't too far off in the future."

Greg's mother beamed while Greg frowned, studying her with a look of utter confusion. Morgan laughed nervously.

"Oh, that's wonderful to hear. I was peeking around the house earlier and found the perfect room for a nursery. The one right next to the office. It has a wonderful view with the boxed window seat and all, and it's not far from the master. It's just so cozy. When you do decide, you will have to let me help you decorate. I already have so many ideas."

Morgan nodded, smiling faintly. "Sure, that would be great." She stared at her plate of spaghetti as she twirled the noodles on her fork. God, this felt worst than seeing all those baby pictures in her inbox. Planning for a future that would never happen. It was like a knife to the heart. What she wouldn't give to be in Neiman's right this second searching for the perfect pair of shoes instead.

* * *

The night wore on with more incessant questions they tried to dodge. Sometimes they were successful, like when his mother asked about their plans for Christmas. Others were harder to avoid, like how did Greg propose. After cleaning the dishes and saying goodnight, they made their way back to the master bedroom, completely exhausted.

"I feel like I survived a round in the ring with a heavyweight and she never laid a finger on me." Greg said from the other side of the bathroom door.

Morgan changed into her pajamas. "That's how mothers are. They know how and where to strike to cause maximum damage. Mine could probably go toe-to-toe with yours."

Greg cracked open the bathroom door. Morgan could hear water running. "Yeah, well, this is going to be harder than I thought. She adores you. She's going to blame me when this whole fake marriage goes south. One more thing to nag me about." He turned to smile at her, shaving cream covering his face.

Morgan walked up next to him, inhaling the scent of the cream. He looked at her from the corner of his eye as he started shaving.

"You're getting rid of the stubble?"

"Yeah."

She could help but pout a little. "Oh, I kind of liked it. It was sort of sexy." She blushed watching him lower the razor into the sink.

"Really?" He grinned. "I couldn't get the paint completely out of it. I looked like an old man, so I had to rectify the situation." He brought the blade out of the water when Morgan's hand grasped his. His eyes met hers.

"Here, let me." She took the razor from him and make a slow stroke under his jawline. Greg's stare bore into her as she worked, letting her fingers glide over the smooth skin as it appeared.

"Hey this is nice. I've never had any one shave me before." His voice was husky, prickling on her skin as she worked the blade around his mouth.

"Don't move too much. I am wielding a sharp object dangerously close to your throat and you know how clumsy I can be."

"Good point." He closed his eyes and hummed a moan. She washed the razor and put it on the sink.

She wiped the remaining cream off with a hand towel. "Done," she softly whispered, running a hand down his cheek. Greg caught it with his and wrapped his other arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him.

"Morgan…" he rasped, his mouth only millimeters from her own. The sweet smell of mint danced in her nostrils. He was going to kiss her again, and she was going to let him. Hell, she was going to kiss him back. And she did. She ran her fingers through his hair, curling them around the strands at the nape of his neck. His lips left hers and ventured down her neck.

She closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of him against her skin. "Greg…" she breathed.

"Morgan, I want you…It's killing me right now. I want to…Oh hell, do I want to," he rasped into her neck.

"Okay," was her response. He looked up at her, his eyes half lidded with lust.

Then hands were everywhere, exploring, teasing. She felt her pajama top make its way over her head and watched him take in the sight of her half naked form.

"Christ, Morgan, you're beautiful." Her back was pressed against the wall, his mouth traveling down her body, and then she was completely naked and so was he. His bare skin met hers, leaving goosebumps everywhere his body wasn't. She wrapped her legs around him and drew him closer, inside her. It was carnal. It was heated. It was everything, and then it was over, ending with a jolt of immense pleasure and heavy panting.

She laid wrapped in his arms after making love a second time. Her hand brushed the hair on his arm that was encircled around her as she listened to his soft snores matching the rhythm of her own breathing. The tears fell silently down her cheeks and onto the downy pillow. She had fallen hard. But Greg obviously still saw this as a temporary thing. How the hell would she make it out of this without being completely shattered?

* * *

Raised voices woke her from her slumber. She stumbled into her clothes as she tiptoed to the door. One glance at the bed told her Greg was already up.

"Mom, stop! We are not doing that." Greg sounded angry.

"You didn't have a proper wedding. The least you can do is have a reception so we can invite the rest of the family." Mrs. Sanders' voice rang out.

"No, Mom, we haven't exactly told everyone were married. In fact, right now, you and Papa Olaf's attorney are the only ones who know. We would like to keep it that way for a while."

Morgan snuck further down the hall.

"Why are earth would you want to do that?"

Morgan jumped as Greg slammed something on the counter. "Because it's not real, okay? We only got married for the money. It means nothing. Are you happy?"

She tried to stifle the sob but failed.

"Morgan?" Greg and Ann both looked at her. She felt her cheeks growing warm, cooled by the streaks of tears now streaming down. She was such a fool. Who would want someone like her? Not her old roommate, Jessica, and certainly not Greg.

"I should go. I'll just get my things later. I'm..I'm going to be at my dad's. I'm so sorry, Mrs. Sanders." She hated the crack in her voice. Almost as much as she hated the pity in Greg's eyes.

She turned around and raced back to the bedroom, grabbing the duffel bag before she ran out the back door, ignoring Greg's calls to her.

* * *

No! He groaned, slapping a fist against the wall. How could he screw this up so bad? He grabbed his keys and chased after her.

He drove, a reckless mess, all the way the sheriff's condo. He pounded on the door, begging her to answer. When she did, it broke his heart. She wouldn't even look at him. The pain crumbled her expression. He had caused that. He had to make it better. She had to forgive him. She had to. He couldn't imagine his life without her.

"Morgan, I'm so sorry."

"Don't, Greg. I get it. I'm not exactly wife material. Or roommate material, for that matter. This was a bad idea to begin with. Look, let's just put this whole mess behind us. I'll-"

"No, dammit. Morgan, I love you. I have always love you. I told myself that I did it for the money, but who was I kidding? I did it for you. All those things you talked about with my mom. I want that, with you. That house was empty before you. My life was empty before you." He reached for her hand, grasping it in his as he knelt on one knee. "Please come home. I'll do whatever it takes to make it up to you. I just want you there. I want to wake up next to you. I want to spend my life with you. Please Morgan, be my wife?"

She nodded, smiling. "I love you too, Greg."

He grabbed her by the waist, swinging her around as he gathered her in his arms. He planted kisses along the outline of her tears and whispered promises in her ear. Ones he intended to keep.

* * *

 **One year later…**

Greg walked up behind his beautiful wife, wrapping his arms around her as she put the finishing touches on the potato salad. They had finally finished remodeling the house and had decided to throw a barbecue to celebrate.

"You look sexy in this apron. Tonight, you should wear only this and that lacy thong I like so much to bed," he murmured, tickling her ear.

She thwarted him with the wooden spoon in her hand. "Calm down. We have guests." She nodded toward the patio where her father, his mother, and a flock of their co-workers were scattered, mingling.

"Morgan, dear, I have those paint samples when you're ready," Greg's mother called out to her, passing through the kitchen. Greg stepped back and shot Morgan a questioning look.

"Paint samples? I thought we had finally finished everything. Isn't that why everyone is here?"

Morgan gave a sly smile. "Perhaps, or maybe it's because we have some bigger news to share."

Greg cocked an eyebrow in confusion. Slowly realization dawned on him. He let his jaw drop staring at her.

"You're pregnant?" he shouted. Everyone from the patio turned to look at them.

Morgan blushed, grinning. She nodded, not even having time to stop before Greg swooped her up into a gigantic hug.

Cheers range out from the outside, whoops and hollers following. Morgan looked up into Greg's loving gaze. A year ago he had saved her, giving her a new life. Being with him, she didn't have a need any more for unnecessary things. In fact, she couldn't even remember where her credit card was half the time, she used it so infrequently now. He had brought her out of despair, and now she gave him hope for a life he wasn't sure he'd ever have. Maybe the solution to their problems wasn't as convenient as they had once thought, but it was the perfect one all along.

 **Sorry if it was rushed. I just wanted to finished it. : ) Thanks for reading.**


	20. Chapter 20

**Just another story, don't really have a title for it.**

The first time came as a surprise and was more the aftermath of grief than anything else. Greg had watched her across the gravesite as they lowered Julie Finlay's casket into the ground. Her swollen red rimmed eyes caught his as the minister finished speaking. _Remember we are here to celebrate life, so don't forget to live yours._ The words struck him hard, as the preacher continued to ramble on about the importance of seizing the day since tomorrow is never a promise. Was he living or just gliding through? When was the last time he took a risk? The questions echoed in his thoughts.

Morgan looked away as Sara spoke to her. Greg's eyes lingered on her, on her soft blonde hair blowing in the breeze, on the black dress she wore showing off her lean legs, on the gentle smile that made a brief appearance across her face before disappearing back into a mournful expression. They had been the ones to find Finn. The ones to hope against odds that she would wake up, visiting her often. Now they were the ones feeling the overwhelming loss of both their friend and colleague.

The ceremony had felt like deja vu. Memories of Warrick's funeral had crept into Greg's mind as he sat in the pew. The mahogany coffin. The sounds of sobs reverberating off the vaulted church walls. The oversized portrait grinning back as if it were all a joke, as if none of it were real. How many more people would he lose before their time?

Morgan was by his side now, enveloping him in a hug. Hints of her floral perfume floated around them. The embrace generated much needed heat against the abnormally cold day. He didn't want to let go. Especially when he remembered how he had almost lost her too once. His hand rested on the back of her dress, right at the location of her old bullet wound. Sometimes she would mention something about it, casually, like she rarely thought about it, but Greg knew better. She broke down on her first case back on the job after the baby's kidnapping had occurred. He held her just like he did then, stroking her back to calm her sobs. She still got a haunted look in her eyes every time an abduction case came through.

He wasn't expecting anything when she asked him to drive her home. The thought never entered his mind when she invited him in. It was only afterwards that he could process it, letting it consumed him. Her touch, her taste, her tenderness. The moonlight had danced on her bare back as she slept. He ran his fingers down the curve of her spine, kissing her shoulders before he snuck out of the bed, dressed, and left.

* * *

Greg sweated most of the next day, worrying about Morgan's reaction to his midnight desertion. But he worried in vain. Morgan was her cheerful self, well as much of it as she could be given the circumstances of having just buried a dear friend. She never questioned him or even brought it up. Greg could see that she was still very fragile and easy to break despite the tough exterior she presented. He wouldn't bring it up unless she did, he told himself. He wouldn't risk her breaking down because of him.

As the time wore on, that night drifted between dream and reality in Greg's head. He was unable to discern between the two. It had still not been mentioned and their friendship remained just as before. Light, casual, and occasionally flirtatious. Greg had chalked it up to them both just seeking solace, using sex as a coping mechanism. But then, six months after Finn's funeral, another case had them staring death down once again.

The bombs had been rigged in the trunks of three cars, set to denote simultaneously. He, Morgan, and Catherine had all cut the wires at the same exact moment. A shudder of relief ran through him as he watched the clock stop. Morgan hugged him, clinging tightly as they shivered against the fear. Catherine joined them. They all breathed deeply. They all gave a grateful laugh. But only two of them exchanged a hopeful glance.

Morgan was still shaking at the end of their shift. Greg offered to drive her home and she accepted. This time he tried to push the thought out of his mind, but when she invited him up again, it became all he could think about. This time was even better than before. She caressed all the right places, whispered all the right things, and tugged at his heart in all the right ways. He spooned her as she slept, afraid to let her go. Afraid that this was just another dream he couldn't decipher from the real thing. But as the sunlight slipped through the shades, he decided it would be better if he left before she woke and the awkward morning after conversation ruined everything.

* * *

Just like the first time, it was never discussed. An incoming murder case that night stole their attention, leaving little time to talk. Soon days had passed and it was swept under the rug. But Greg's heart rate rose every time he was in her presence. He stumbled over his words whenever he talked to her, distracted by the lips he had kissed and longed to again. And sleep became a precious commodity, stolen from him night after restless night by the images of Morgan that ran through his head.

But it was the last time they slept together when everything fell apart. This time it was alcohol, not tragedy that brought them together. He had invited her over for a beer to celebrate solving the recent string of murders. One beer turned into five and a lingering kiss led to another until clothes were strewn and sheets were rumpled. But this time they were at his place. He had no where to run to as the early morning light shone through the window.

"Greg?" she whispered into his neck.

"Hmm." He tensed, feeling her shift next to him.

"Do you want to get breakfast?"

"Sure."

Dressing and then riding to the restaurant in near silence was as uncomfortable as Greg predicted it would be. They sat at their normal booth, ordering their usual.

"I need my coffee in a vat. I can't remember the last time I had a hangover this bad, but honestly, my head hurts so much I can't even think to remember," Morgan groaned.

"Yeah, last night was just one bad decision after another," Greg agreed, thankful the waitress rushed their drink order over as he sipped on the black coffee.

Morgan scrunched her eyebrows, studying him. "What does that mean?"

Greg paused, the edge of his coffee cup on his bottom lip. "What do you think it means? We shouldn't have drank that much. Beer after beer."

"Right." Morgan's gaze lowered to the brown liquid swirling in her own mug. "So you don't think us having sex was a mistake then?

Greg stared at her. "Do you think it was?"

Morgan didn't look up and didn't answer.

He took a deep breath and lower his voice. "What are we doing, Morgan? I mean, what is this? Is this a relationship or just comfort sex? Because I don't know if I can handle either one right now."

Morgan's eyes shot to his as disgust etched in her expression. "Well, obviously it's not a relationship or you wouldn't sneak out every time to do the walk of shame." Tears were welling in her eyes, threatening to spill. "And you seemed to handle everything just fine last night."

Greg sighed and moved to her side of the booth, drawing her into a hug. "Morgan, I'm sorry. That's not what I meant. This is my fault. I knew this would become complicated eventually, but I still let it happen." He tilted her chin up with his finger, gazing into her watery blue eyes. "This is all it can ever be between us and already we are in over our heads. We work together. And after everything we've seen and been through, after everything we have lost along the way, I don't think I can give you more than this. I'm not a relationship guy. I've watched too many be destroyed to even venture down that road again. And you deserve more, so much more. Can we just go back to being friends?"

Morgan nodded halfheartedly. "I guess…Sure." She faked a smile. "We'll just pretend it never happened."

Impossible, his heart screamed. "Great," his voice said.

* * *

The weeks went by, and they rarely talked, the unspoken elephant lurking in every room they found themselves in together. Greg cursed himself for ruining their friendship. He loved her. He realized that now, but every girl he'd ever loved he lost. He couldn't stand the thought of losing her too. Although, it looked like he already had.

It was the beginning of shift one night when he and Hodges walked in on Lindsay Willows and Morgan stooped over the table deep in conversation. Both women stiffened at the sight of him, exchanging a glance before diverting their eyes to the paperwork scattered in front of them.

"Hey ladies, what are we working on tonight?" Hodges asked walking towards them, oblivious to whatever was going on between them. Greg, however, wasn't. He noticed the flush of Morgan's cheeks, the sad curve of her lips, and the telltale signs that she had been crying. He wanted to ask what was wrong, but Lindsay shot him a glare the moment he opened his mouth, causing him to closed it and remain silent once more.

"Great, the gang's all here," Catherine walked in, stopping as she surveyed the uncomfortable scene. "I have a possible murder over in Summerlin." Her gaze moved between Greg and Morgan. " You two haven't work together in a while. You both take it. Hodges and Lindsay, there was an attempted assault off The Strip I need help with."

Lindsay nodded, patting Morgan's back and giving her a cautious eye before walking out with her mother and the newest CSI on the team. Greg and Morgan were alone.

"Morgan, are you okay? What's going on?" He started to walk towards her, but thought better of it, stopping just a few feet from her.

"Nothing. I'm fine. It's nothing." She took a breath, pressing her palms on the table's surface, as if steadying herself. She raised up and flashed him a smile. "Let's go. I'm driving."

* * *

The scene looked like any other murder at first. Blood pool under the victim, scattered mess of clues left in the dead man's path. Greg snapped pictures while Morgan cased the room looking for a pattern or prints.

"I know you've been avoiding me. I guess I deserve that," Greg started, adjusting the lens as he began focusing on the body.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Greg. We are the same as we have always been. Friends." Morgan didn't even glance in his direction as she spoke.

"Friends don't ignore each other's texts or phone calls. Friends talk to each other. Morgan, when was the last time we actually talked or hung out?"

She narrowed her eyes, staring at him now. "Have you forgotten already? Maybe it wasn't as memorable as I thought."

"Morgan-" He started in her direction

Her eyes moved to look at the victim, widening as they did. She brushed past Greg, walking briskly to the body. "Oh my God! Greg, look at his hands! Look at his eyes!"

He did, seeing what she had already noticed. The victim's fingertips were blackened as if they were rotting away. His eyes oozes blood from the sockets, the glazed stare horrifying familiar.

Morgan pulled out her cell phone and dialed. "This is Morgan Brody with the Las Vegas Crime Lab and we may have a problem…"

* * *

The transparent plastic walls were more terrifying with Morgan on the side with him this time. She sat now dressed in scrubs, nervously chewing her thumbnail as she listened to the doctor explain the situation. Another virus had been stolen from a BioDefense lab. The strain had been a mix of two deadly diseases created to help the a secret government agency learn how to dispel potential biological warfare threats. It would take twenty four hours for them to confirm whether they had caught the virus and if they were capable of spreading it. If that was the case, there was an antiviral, but it was still in the trial phase, not yet used on actual humans. Nothing was a definite cure.

The doctor went on to list the possible symptoms to watch for in the meantime: nausea, fever, chills, numbing sensations, and lightheadedness. Greg's eyes never left Morgan who sitting crosslegged on the hospital bed on the opposite side of the plastic divider. Her eyes had that haunted look again.

"Morgan, it will be okay. Remember I've been here before. We'll survive this. We always do," he lied.

She looked over at him, and then burst into tears. Her shoulders shook with sobs. "You act like it's the common cold. Greg, it is never that simple, and this is as complicated as it gets."

She slept the next few hours, drained from crying to the point of exhaustion. Greg did anything but sleep. He paced. He fretted. He prayed. He didn't even realize he had drifted off until the sound of retching woke him.

Morgan was on the floor, hunched over a metal trash can.

"Morgan?"

She stood and wiped her face with the back of her hand before wobbling and crashing to the floor.

"Morgan!" His heart raced. She was infected. Shit! What if she died? He gripped the plastic curtain and called her name again. Men dressed in white hazmat suits entered in and crowded around her, blocking his view. He couldn't handle this. He couldn't lose her. Not like this.

* * *

They hooked Morgan up to an IV and left her sleeping once more in the bed across from his. The doctor was still running tests and would return with answers soon. The agony of "what if" scenarios looped through his mind. His phone buzzed. It was Lindsay.

"Hey, how's the case going?" he asked, trying to sound more upbeat than he felt.

"Still a work in progress, but we have a lead. How is Morgan? I heard that she had a scare."

Greg sucked in a breath. "I don't know yet. They are still trying to figure out if she has the virus. It doesn't look good."

"Greg," Lindsay hesitated, "if she does have it, there is something you should know. I promised her I wouldn't say anything, but the situation is dire so I'm sure she will forgive me." There was a long pause. "Morgan is pregnant. She will refuse the antiviral if they ask her to take it. You have to make sure she takes it if she needs it. No matter what."

The room was spinning. Pregnant? How could he not have known? Was it-

"Lindsay, how far long is she?" He had to know.

"It's yours, Greg, if that's what you're really asking. She was still debating what to do because she knew you didn't want a family or relationship or…" Her voice got softer as she spoke, trailing off.

He was crying now, he realized. He wanted all of that. All of it with her. And now he might lose everything, before he even had a chance.

* * *

"Hey." Her voice was weak, strained from disuse. She smiled at him as he sat beside her, stroking her hand.

"Morgan." he kissed her, holding her gently as she sat up in the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired and thirsty, but not sick." She entwined her hand with his. "I take it we were cleared."

"An hour ago." Greg kissed her cheek. "Why didn't you tell me?"

She winced and looked away from him. "I was afraid you would think I had tried to trap you into something you didn't want. But I didn't, I swear. It was a shock to me too. I just didn't…don't know…I'm sorry."

"Stop. I'm the one who should be apologizing. I lied when I said I didn't want a relationship with you. I have always wanted it, but I couldn't bear to face the possibility that I might lose you too. Until I did. Or almost did."

"So you're okay with the baby?"

He leaned in and kissed her forehead. "I'm more than okay. I'm ecstatic." He rested his head against hers. "When Finn died, I think so did my hope for better things. Why bother trying when it would all disappear one day anyway? But this, watching you, not knowing if you would survive, knowing I was about to lose everything I was too stubborn to risk having to begin with, it put it all in perspective. I was an idiot. Forgive me. Please."

She smiled but then curtailed it, pulling away from Greg. "How can I be sure I won't wake up to an empty bed and a broken heart again?"

"Easy. Move in with me. Marry me. Just let me be a part of your life again. I miss you so much, Morgan." He nuzzled her neck, kissing it softly. "Come on, baby. Say yes." He drew back to gauge her reaction.

"Is hell yes acceptable?" She grabbed his collar and brought his lips to hers before he could respond.

* * *

She was so beautiful, sleeping peacefully next to him as the rays of sunlight falling through the blind slats highlighted her delicate features. She looked like an angel. His angel. They rarely had moments like this any more, lazy mornings spent in each other's arms, but even after five years of marriage he still treasured every chance he got to hold her.

Small girlish laughter and the creak of their bedroom door signaled the end to their peaceful morning as two little girls bound into the room, their blonde ringlets bouncing as they jumped on the bed in between them.

"Breakfast time, Daddy," the oldest one said, snuggling into the pillow.

"Pancakes," the youngest clapped, giggling.

"Yeah, Daddy, breakfast in bed sounds fantastic. Right, girls?" Morgan grinned.

Greg threw up his hands in defeat. "I guess this is my punishment for living in a house full of girls."

"You know you love it," Morgan retorted, winking at him as she tickled their youngest child.

And he did, every precious minute of it.


	21. Chapter 21

**Thanks kristen and your-my-best for the reviews. Not sure if anyone actually reads this, but thanks to those of you who do. This week has been hell, so I'm breaking this story into two parts, just cause I needed to write something but am too exhausted to actually finish it now. Sorry if some of it doesn't make sense or if the grammar is off. Sleep deprivation can do that apparently. : )**

 **The Bet (Part 1)**

"So what do I put for interests?" Morgan nudged Sara and pointed to the profile on her computer screen.

"Well, what are you looking for in a guy?" Sara asked skimming through what Morgan had already written as she sipped on her coffee.

Morgan opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by Greg who stood behind them. "A dating profile? Why so archaic? Haven't you ever heard of Tinder?"

She shot a narrowed glare his way. "I'm a science nerd. I prefer calculated algorithms to random generations. I also prefer personality to just pictures."

"Yeah, besides, we already know most serial killers are good-looking. We wouldn't want Morgan's sweet face on the 6 o'clock news. It would just mean more work for us," Sara said hiding a smile behind her mug.

Now Morgan glared at Sara. "Geez, thanks."

Greg rolled his eyes walking to the coffee pot. He poured a cup and sat opposite the girls at the break room table.

"Okay, so it's asking what do I look for in a guy?" Morgan looked up from the screen and turned to Sara. "What _do_ I look for? It's been a while. I don't even remember anymore."

"Someone with a sense of humor, smart too, a science geek…maybe into history also, you know, to keep the conversation interesting. You definitely want someone taller, to reach the higher shelves and stuff…and someone who works the same hours; otherwise, scheduling dates is a beating." Greg stopped talking and took a sip of his coffee. Morgan and Sara stared at him. "What?" he said arching a brow.

"Um, that's quite the list, Greg. Where did you get such insight into the type of guys Morgan likes to date?" Sara's smirk was too big to conceal, reaching all the way to the glimmer in her hazel eyes. Morgan sat motionless, her gaze still fixed on Greg.

He shifted nervously in the metal chair. Just as he was about to speak, Henry walked in holding a file.

"Greg, I need your help," he said giving both girls a flustered nod when he realized they were there.

Greg winked and got out of his seat. "Save by the lab tech. See you ladies later." With his last words still lingering in the air, he walked out of the room.

"Well, that was interesting." Sara was still smirking and Morgan could feel the heat of her gaze as she turned her attention back to the keyboard.

"What?" she said as nonchalantly as she could.

"Greg's perfect guy for you sounds a lot like Greg."

"Whatever." Morgan tried to give a dismissive scoff but it came out an ungracious snort instead.

"I see…very interesting."

Morgan glanced over at Sara's overly pleased expression.

"Wipe that stupid grin off your face. There is nothing going on between me and Greg."

"Yet." The sound of Sara's cup hitting the table made Morgan flinch. She was jumpier than usual today. Weird.

"Or Ever. Get real, Sara. Does romantic have one or two c's in it? I always sucked at spelling." Morgan typed furiously. Anything to change the direction of the conservation.

"I'm not sure. Let's ask Greg. I bet he can answer that one for you." Sara's smile spread even to her voice.

"Stop it."

"We are science nerds, like you said," Sara continued, ignoring Morgan's comment,"so let's try a little experiment, one with a wager."

" Like a bet?" Morgan eyed Sara cautiously, not sure where this was headed.

"Sure. Let's say you and Greg go out on an experimental date. For the sake of science, of course. And if there is any chemistry- or shall we say electricity- in the goodnight kiss, you owe me a steak dinner at Ferrico's."

"And if there is no goodnight kiss? Just complete awkwardness that we will spend months trying to rectify? Then what?"

"Then I'll kiss Hodges to throw the heat off of you for a while. You can even film it and blast it on social media."

Morgan gave a low whistle. "That's a steep bet. You sound pretty damn confident that you will win." She smiled, contemplating. "I wouldn't mind rubbing your nose in your defeat. Besides, we need a gag reel for office parties and you kissing Hodges would fit the comedic relief bill nicely. You're on." She stuck out her hand, and Sara shook it.

"I'm looking forward to that steak. Best in Vegas." Sara got up to leave.

"Keep dreaming," Morgan called out after her.

* * *

Greg stood across from Morgan, paper masks covering both their faces as they worked through the medical waste turned evidence that was scattered on the layout table.

"So a dating profile, huh?" Greg glanced Morgan's way, hating that he couldn't read her expression.

She shrugged, separating bloody cloths from broken needles. "I guess. I've been here four years now. It's probably time I get a personal life."

Greg nodded, suddenly at a loss for words. She hadn't had a date in four years?

"I've dated. Or at least gone on dates," she said reading his mind."I just haven't been in a relationship in a while. I miss it. That's all."

"Sure," Greg smiled awkwardly a little too long. He was now suddenly grateful for the concealment.

"What about you?" Morgan's blue eyes caught his for a moment before looking away. "Do you date a lot? You certainly seem familiar with all the best ways to meet people online."

"Nah, not really lately. It's been a while since I swiped right." Morgan scrunched her eyebrows in confusion. "Tinder. That's how you pick a date. Never mind."

"Oh, right. So what kind of girl makes you 'swipe right'?" Her gloved fingers made air quotes.

Greg felt the heat rushing to his face as his mind tried to spin some answer that wouldn't come out shallow. He was really thankful for the mask. He might have to wear it daily around Morgan just to avoid the humiliation.

"Umm…you know, I look for someone who looks like they have a big heart."

Morgan snorted, choking back laughter. "Sorry, but how do you determine that based on a picture? The bigger the bra size the bigger the heart must be?"

"No." Maybe. Shit. This was not the way he had hoped this conversation would go. He shook his head. "You can tell a lot from someone's eyes and smile."

"Really? Well, what do my eyes say?"

 _That you're my soulmate._

"Well," he drew out the word, thinking as he walked over to her. He lifted her chin so that he could stare into them. He finally had an excuse to without worrying about being caught, and he was going to milk it for all it was worth. "You have big doe-like eyes. That says you're kind, maybe even too sweet for your own good. And you have long lashes, so you're strong, tougher than you look. You also have some faint smile lines, so I know you have a great sense of humor."

He heard her lips parted in a small sigh beneath the mask. He could kiss her, just a few inches and a couple removed layers of paper were all it would take. But Morgan turned her head away shyly just as the thought entered his mind.

"Wow, I didn't know my eyes said all that. Maybe I should check out Tinder after all."

Oh, hell. Why did he ever mention that stupid app?

"So, Greg, you seem to know a lot about this dating game and I'm way out of practice," Morgan continued. "Maybe we could go out sometime, you know, like a rehearsal date. I'd really like to get the hang of it before I embarrass myself in front of the man of my dreams on the real thing."

He stared at her. Was she asking him out? Was she serious? Damn it! He wished he could see her face, once again finding the mask's drawback.

"You want to go on a date? With me?"

The faint smile lines crinkled around her eyes. "If you're up for it. Are you, Sanders?"

"Name the time and place."


	22. Chapter 22

**Thanks for all the reviews and support. You really helped improve my week and outlook. : )**

 **The Bet ( Part 2)**

The sound of the doorbell came earlier than she was expecting. She glanced at the clock on her phone as she finished curling her hair. Seven forty. He was early. Typical Greg.

She ran her fingers through her blonde curls, flipping them in front of her shoulders and then- after a quick examination in the mirror- behind. She smoothed the black silk of her dress with her hands. They shook slightly as she did it. That was odd. It must have been the caffeine overdose she had subjected herself to in the past hour. Four cups of coffee and two trips to the restroom later she was supposed to feel energized and ready, not the bundle of nerves she was currently. Yep, must have been the caffeine. Otherwise she freaking out over this non-date. But she couldn't have been, because it was Greg and there wasn't anything to worry about. Was there?

Another ring of the bell hurried her along to the door, her thoughts interrupted.

He stood on the other side, looking like a tall drink of water in a blue buttoned down and khakis. She could feel the heat rising to her face as she awkwardly watched him, not saying anything. Damn. She couldn't blame that on the coffee.

"You're early," she managed to say.

He smiled. "Well, hello to you too. You look stunning." His eyes roamed her body, suddenly making her very aware of how revealing the dress was compared to her normal work attire. She grabbed the sweater jacket on the coat hanger by the door.

"So where to, Romeo?" she said slipping on the coat.

"You know, I was wondering that same thing earlier and I think I found the perfect place. I hope you're up for some fun tonight, Brody." He gave her a mischievous grin and a wink.

"Greg," there was an edge in her voice, "where are we going?"

He continued to smile and grabbed her hand. "You'll see."

* * *

"Putt-Putt?" Morgan stared at the bright neon sign as Greg pulled his car into the parking lot. "We're playing miniature golf?"

Greg shrugged, smiling, as he killed the engine. He leaned back in the driver's seat and glanced in Morgan's direction. "Yeah. I thought it might be fun. Plus, rumor has it that you're quite competitive. Thought I might put an end to the speculation tonight, and see if you really had what it takes to win."

Morgan knitted her eyebrows, bemused. "Not quite sure what that means, but you're on, Sanders, if you're challenging me to kick your butt in a round of mini golf." A grin spread across her face as her gaze fell from Greg's soft brown eyes to his lips. She was definitely up for whatever games he wanted to play. Shit. Did she really just think that? This supposed platonic date was throwing her for a loop.

After getting their clubs and brightly colored golf balls, they found themselves at the first green. Greg shot first and got a hole in one, while Morgan struggled endlessly to knock the damn ball in, eventually kicking it slightly with her foot until it inched its way down.

"Cheaters never prosper," Greg retorted moving to the next hole. Morgan shot him an innocent look, batting her lashes.

"Who me?" He rolled his eyes at her comment, his mouth forming a half smirk.

Greg, of course, shot another perfect putt. Morgan leaned over the club, steadying her hands as she eyed her target. She licked her lips, drew back the club and hit the astroturf, missing the ball by several inches.

"Ugh!" She yelled out a frustrated groan. She hated losing. Stupid ball, stupid club, stupid game…Her thoughts were suspended when she felt Greg's long arms reach around her from behind. He placed his hands over hers on the club and leaned in where she could feel his warm breath against her neck and his broad chest pressing into her back. She stilled as he spoke, goosebumps prickling her skin. He whispered instructions in her ear.

"You're trying too hard. You should just barely pull back," he showed her drawing back the club, "and then let go." The club tapped the ball gently and they watched it slowly roll down the path and circle the cup, finally falling in. Morgan dropped the metal stick. She jumped up, squealing with delight. It worked. She turned and threw her arms around Greg, squeezing him in an enthusiastic hug. His hands fell at the back her waist and then descended lower, skimming her ass. She gasped at his brazen touch and pulled back, studying his expression. He gave an impish grin and hung his head bashfully, but his eyes had darken with desire. She stepped back, not sure whether she was frighten or aroused by this new development. Maybe it was both.

"Thanks," she said tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She turned to look towards the next green, sensing the gathering crowd behind them as the next group stepped in line to play. "We should probably keep moving."

"Sure," Greg said, still smiling as he followed her.

They played the rest of the game, not touching yet still flirting. Morgan would purposely put a little sway in her hips as she swung the club, knowing she had Greg's full attention when she did so. She decided to be strategic about her new advantage, accidentally dropping something and bending down to pick it up while she stood in Greg's view as he teed off. After a few missed hits, he was catching on.

"Clever, Brody, but I invented that game," his voice rustled against her ear the last time she had bent over to distract him. He smacked her lightly on the butt after he said it, causing Morgan to shoot up to a standing position, stumbling on her ascent. He chuckled and strolled past her walking backwards, swinging his club in hand as his eyes fixed on hers. Her heartbeat geared into overdrive and she found herself gulping down air to catch her breath.

* * *

"Well I won. 28 to 60. Ouch, not your best score Morgan, but I must say your game was spot on." He winked at her again and laughed as they returned the equipment and made their way back to the car.

"Alright, Casanova, what now?" Morgan diverted, feeling the blush heating her cheeks.

"Well, this is a practice date, right?"

"Right…" She hedged, afraid of where the conversation was headed.

"Well, practice means you need to work on your skills, use them so you aren't rusty." He stood right in front of her now, blocking her entrance to the car.

"Where is this going, Greg?"

He leaned down and she closed her eyes in anticipation.

"We need to work on your flirting." His words were hot and moist, just an inch away from her tingling lips.

Her eyes shot open. "What?"

Greg smirked and crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back against the car door.

"See, like that right there. You know what you're doing," his eyes scanned her body," but you tense up anytime I try to reciprocate. It's cute, don't get me wrong, but it kind of kills the moment."

Her eyes narrowed as she glared at him. "What makes you think I'm the problem? Maybe it's you. Maybe you just suck at flirting and it throws me off."

Keeping his stance, he cocked his head to the side, looking at her and still smirking. "Nah, that's not it. I'm an excellent flirt. It has to be you."

"You jackass." Morgan threw her hands against his chest, pressing him back to the car. "No wonder you don't get any dates. You think you are so smooth. Let me tell you something-"

His arms wrapped around her and his mouth found hers, silencing her. He kissed gently, in the beginning, but when she licked the seam of his lips gaining full access, he moaned increasing the intensity to match the hunger in his eyes. Oh, there were absolutely some fireworks going off, Morgan thought. Electricity be damned. This was all chemistry and it was explosive.

She pulled back, dazed.

"You were saying?" Greg panted, catching his breath.

"Wow," she breathed.

"Yeah," he grinned. He turned and opened the car door. "Come on. Let's go grab dinner and then work on our flirting some more."

He climbed in on the driver's side.

Morgan laughed, getting into the car. "Damn. That's the second time I've lost tonight."

Greg raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, it's nothing. Just this dumb bet I had with Sara."

Greg laughed. "Yeah, you had already lost that one before the date even started."

Morgan blinked, staring at him confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Morgan, I knew all about your bet. Sara told me."

"What? Why? I don't understand."

Greg sighed. "I've had a crush on you for longer that I care to admit. Sara said she would help gauge the situation and see if you were even interested, you know, if I even stood a chance. I then told her about how you had asked me out, and she relayed your little wager to me. She knew you had at least an attraction to me when you agreed to buy the lab's biggest vegetarian a steak dinner just as an excuse to go out with me."

Morgan covered her flushing face with her hands. "Oh God! How did I overlook that? Sara set me up. Damn, she's sneaky."

"Morgan, come on. Like she would actually volunteer to kiss Hodges."

"I feel like such an idiot," she said. Greg pulled Morgan's hands away from her face. He lightly kissed her nose and then her lips.

"Please don't, because tonight, you made me feel like the luckiest guy in the world."

She smiled. "Well, I'm free next Saturday if you want to feel even luckier."

Greg's impish grin returned. "It's a date, beautiful."


	23. Chapter 23

**Shower Smut- no story, just smut. I'll write a story later this week. : )**

Greg's eye throbbed, and he could feel it already starting to swell. He licked the cut on his lip tasting blood. All he wanted was a cold shower after the day he had, his mind drifting elsewhere as he walked through the locker room to the showers.

He was already on the other side of the door by the time he registered the running water and the steam that began clouding his already compromised vision. He was about to walk out when the silhouette of her naked form against the shower curtain stopped him cold. He drew in a shaky breath, watching her shadow pop a knee as she drug a washcloth over her thigh. His mouth went dry as she leaned back, the dark outline of her breasts bouncing slightly, accentuated by the arch in her back. The pain in his jaw and eye socket subsided momentarily, the growing strain in his jeans now taking precedence.

Behind him, the door slammed shut. Morgan's shadow stilled at the sound. _Shit._ He needed to leave. _Just turn away and go_ , his brain shouted. But his feet stood glued in place, his gaze unable- unwilling- to look anywhere else.

"Hello?" she said, a small tremble in her voice. She turned off the water.

The towel on the stool next to the shower stall disappeared and before he could react, the curtain was drawn back. There she stood, the small white towel wrapped around her as her wet hair fell slick just below her bare shoulders.

"Greg!" Her eyes widened and she clung tighter to the thick fabric. "What are you doing here?" she hissed.

"Morgan, I'm…," he took in a deep breath watching her walk towards him, "sorry."

As she moved closer to him, her expression softened and saddened. She raised a gentle hand to his face, tracing his wounds.

"You're hurt? What happened?" Her gaze met his, concern seeping from it. He could barely breathe as his eyes caught sight of her cleavage, taut and heaving against the edge of the terrycloth. Her skin was still glistening. Gorgeous. He closed his eyes, flinching as her finger reached the swollen one.

"A suspect attacked me during an interrogation. Crawford managed to pull him off before he could do more damage. Got him on assault, whether he murdered his wife or not." He opened his good eye. "It's not as bad as it looks."

"I don't believe that for a second. You're in pain. And this," the pads of her fingers caressed his injured lip," looks painful."

His eyes locked onto hers as she looked up at him.

"Well, Nurse Brody, what remedy do you recommend?" His voice had grown husky with desire.

"Nurse, eh? Not doctor?" She cocked an eyebrow and smiled. "Does Greg Sanders have a thing for nurses?" Heat flushed his face.

Her hands lowered to the nape of his neck, pulling him down to her. "If so," she continued, "maybe I can indulge your fantasies for a bit."

Her lips met his. The kiss was hesitant, like she was unsure of how far to take it or how gentle to be. He parted his own lips and wrapped his arms around her, his fingers digging into the soft cotton fibers covering most of her back. He pulled her closer and the kiss grew hungrier.

Her mouth left his, tenderly making its way up his face, her lips trailing over his bruises. He moaned, enjoying her touch way more than he should.

"Morgan," he pushed back, his hands grasping at her naked shoulders. "We should stop."

She gave a faint pout before the corners of her mouth curled upward. Her smile suddenly became teasing and dangerous.

"You need a shower," she said taking his hand in hers and dragging him to the stall.

"Morgan…" he warned.

"You asked for my advice," she shot back, smugly.

His heart was racing as he followed her. What the hell? She stopped when they reached the small tiled booth. She grabbed the hem of his shirt. Slowly she brought it up over his head and tossed it on the floor. _You should stop this,_ he told himself. _She's the boss's daughter. Your co-worker. Your friend._ His wide eyed stare was plastered to her every move as she worked the button on his jeans. Was this actually happening?

Her seductive smile turned into a salacious grin as his pants hit the floor. He sucked in a breath feeling the cool air against his now exposed erection. This was so wrong, but it felt so right.

Morgan turned and twisted the lever on the shower. The water spurted from the nozzle.

Her hand unfastened the towel around her and Greg's eyes followed it as it fell to the floor.

"Mind if I join you? My shower was interrupted, and I didn't get the chance to finish washing." Her eyes flickered on his, and then she stepped under the water, letting it cascade down her curves. His gaze scaled her backside bared before him in all its luscious glory. Yep, he was going to hell, but the descent was going to be heavenly.

Greg shook off the rest of his clothes and joined her, closing the curtain behind him.

His lips skimmed the back of her shoulders and up her neck. The scent of vanilla lingered on her skin. His hands roamed her body, cautiously working up from her ass to her hips to her waist, anticipation and fear halting him from moving further. Morgan turned to face him. She brought a wet washcloth to his face, wiping away the remnants of dried blood that hadn't yet washed away.

"Morgan," he rasped as the washcloth ventured down his body until it was stroking his most sensitive spot. " _Shit_." That felt amazing.

"Sorry," she released him, "I just thought maybe we could get a little dirty before we got clean. Besides, aren't sponge baths a nurse's area of expertise?"

He nodded. "Yeah, but…," he shook his head. "No, this is a mistake." He took a step back. As he turned to leave, she grabbed his wrist and brought his palm to her breast. The flesh pebbled under his touch, her nipple hardening beneath his thumb. Morgan arched slightly and hummed a low moan.

"This is not a mistake, Greg Sanders. This is destiny. Fate." She moved his hand to her chest, her heartbeat vibrating against it. "This is what you do to me. This is us, finally letting go. I want this and I know you do too. Please, Greg. Just…let go." And she did, releasing his hand.

He stepped closer. She was right. He wanted this. Had wanted it for so long that he had already convinced himself it would never happen. Yet, here he was, lowering his mouth to tease her breasts. He ran his tongue over one before moving to the other, feeling her skin prickle as he tasted. Moaning, she pressed up against him. She gasped as he grabbed her ass and raised her up, eye level with him. She threw her legs around him, finding balance. His eyes bore into her blue depths as he moved forward, pushing her back up against the tiled wall. Water dripped down her dark lashes and landed on his mouth, traveling through the only space between them now.

"Are you sure? No regrets?" he growled a low whisper, fighting the urge to forge ahead.

"Well, when you put it that way…" she teased.

"Morgan." Another growl.

"No regrets."

Those words were all it took. He pushed inside her with force, eliciting a small cry from her. He couldn't help the grunts that escaped him as he thrusted deeper, spurred on by pleasurable whimpers resounding in his ear. She nibbled on his earlobe and then explored down his neck. Her lips stilled on the hollow column of his throat.

"Oh God!" She was falling apart, dragging him with her in the process. He felt the pressure building, the ache that always preceded euphoria.

"Shit, Morgan. You… feel… so… damn…good." The words fell line with his movements. And then, he couldn't control it any longer. His grip tightened on her thighs. He jerked inside her, finding sweet release. His head buried into her shoulder. Her hands stroked his hair, calming him as he caught his breath, coming back down to reality.

He set her down and stepped back, falling under the raining faucet. Neither spoke. The only sounds now were the dripping water and their erratic breathing.

"Greg, that was…amazing." Morgan closed the gap. Water streaked down their shaky bodies as they held each other. Greg kissed the crown of her head as Morgan rested against his chest.

"You're a helluva nurse. That was the best medicine I've ever had. I completely forgot that some guy had just beaten me up." Morgan looked up at him and smiled. "I might need another dose later," he winked, grinning.

Morgan's smile weakened and her gaze fell to the floor.

"What, baby? What's wrong?" Greg's pulse picked up speed as panic started to set in.

"I lied to you, Greg. I do have one regret." She lifted her eyes to his, an unreadable emotion behind them.

His breath hitched.

"I regret that we didn't do this sooner." Her grin widened.

Greg leaned down and kissed her. "Well I guess I'll have to make it up to you."


	24. Chapter 24

**The Bad Day (Part 1 )**

The coffee that clung to her blouse was already turning cold, causing Morgan to shiver every time the fabric hit her skin. Perfect. Her shift had just started and this was the third ominous warning she had received that it was going to be a long and arduous night. The first two involved a rip in her favorite jacket and a dent in the fender of her new Nissan.

"Brody, it looks like you have little something…" The bearded jackass who worked swing shift pointed to the large obvious brown stain on her cream colored top.

"Thanks, Brad. I know." She gave him a begrudging tightlipped smile, rolling her eyes as she walked past him.

No one else was in the locker room when she entered. She found her spare shirt in her locker. A quick glance told her the coast was clear. She worked the top over her head, freezing as she sensed someone behind her.

"Not exactly a floor show, but I'll take it." The sound of Greg's voice prickled her skin. She threw the dirtied blouse in her bag. Quickly, she tossed on the spare shirt, turning around.

"Don't mess with me, Sanders. Tonight has not been my night," she warned, adjusting the hem of her shirt.

Greg smiled and stepped back, throwing up his hands in surrender.

"Don't worry. I know better than to provoke an angry woman."

"That's good to know." Both of them turned to see Catherine standing in the doorway. "Dead body in an alley. You two are on the case. Try to get along." She waved a reprimanding finger between them before smiling.

Morgan sighed looking down at her clean shirt. An alley meant dumpster diving. Great. Just what she needed.

* * *

She adjusted the flashlight in her hand, sifting through the trash. Of course, she was the one in the dumpster. She had never mastered the rock-paper-scissors game quite the way Greg had.

"Find anything yet?" He called from outside the metal bin.

"No, nothing yet. I can barely see anything and-"She drew in a sharp breath feeling something hard stick into her back.

"Get out," a low gristly whisper came from behind her, inside the dumpster. She froze, gripping the flashlight in her hand.

"I'm not here to hurt you," she stated calmly, afraid to turn around or even move. " I work for the Las Vegas crime lab. I'm searching to find evidence for a case. Please just back up and I'll get out." The beam of light shook in front of her, the flashlight trembling in her hands.

"Morgan? Who are you talking to? Are you okay?" Greg's voice shook the tin walls around her and the stranger behind her.

She heard something strike metal and saw a blinding light. Then everything went black.

* * *

Greg held her hand in his, kissing her long manicured fingers. This was his fault. He should have been the one in the dumpster. He was the one the homeless man should've attacked. Greg winced, looking up at the bandage covering the top of Morgan's head. She looks so peaceful, an angel in a hospital gown. If only she would wake up.

"Is she your girlfriend?" A nurse walked in to check Morgan's stats, walking past Greg as he sat next to her bed.

"No, if only I were so lucky. We work together." Greg brushed a strand of hair from Morgan's serene face.

The nurse gave him a sad smile. "You should tell her how you feel. She can still hear you. You never know."

The older woman winked, patting Greg on the back as she left.

Greg leaned over and placed a kiss on Morgan's forehead. "Don't die on me, Morgan Brody. I love you too much to let you go."

* * *

Light fluttered in as she opened her eyes. The room was bright and impossibly white. There was a woman in scrubs standing at her side. In front of her, a strange man slept on one of the plush chairs. He was handsome with dark ruffled hair and a sweet boyish smile that emerged occasionally, as if he was dreaming.

"Well, well, someone finally decided to wake up. How are you, dear? How do you feel?" The woman in scrubs looked at her, placing her hands on either side of Morgan's face as she studied her, checking for something.

"Okay, I guess. My head is throbbing and I have no idea why I'm here or what happened…Who is the guy?" Morgan motioned to the cute stranger asleep in the chair.

"Oh him?" The woman smiled putting a cuff on to take Morgan's blood pressure. "He's been here ever since you arrived a few hours ago. I was pretty sure he was your boyfriend. You don't recognize him?"

Morgan looked at the stranger more closely. He did look familiar. Should she know him?

"What's the last thing you remember, sweetheart?" The nurse's hard gaze shook her a little.

"Um, I had just taken my afternoon run along the beach and was headed back to my apartment. After that, nothing."

The nurse frowned, her eyes becoming worrisome.

"What?" Morgan asked. "What's wrong?"

"Sweetheart, where do you think you are?"

"Um…a hospital?" She wasn't following. Was there something she was missing?

"What city?"

"Los Angeles."

The nurse let out a low whistle. "Morgan, what year is it?"

God, this was getting strange. "2011."

The nurse pursed her lips and averted her eyes to the window. Morgan followed her gaze, gasping as the Vegas skyline against the morning sunrise greeted her. What the hell was going on?

* * *

"It's called short term amnesia," Dr. Davis explained, pointing at some x-rays on his iPad. "Miss Brody, you appear to have forgotten the last four years of your life. When you were hit, the part of your brain that retains memory must have been affected. I have no idea why the loss has been limited to the past four years or if those memories will ever return."

Morgan stared at him dumbfounded. Greg, the handsome stranger, had filled her in on the fact that she worked at the Las Vegas crime lab now with him and her dad. He also told her about how she had been searching for evidence in a recent case and was struck by a pipe wielding homeless man. He looked at her almost painfully when she blankly told him she honestly had no idea who he was. Maybe he was her boyfriend. Shit. That sucked.

The doctor laid out all the instructions on how to deal with a head wound and scheduled a follow up for the next day before he released her into Greg's care.

* * *

She stared out the window most of the ride, looking lost. The few times she had glanced in Greg's direction she had given him a cautious smile. It broke his heart. She had no clue who he was. Their whole history erased.

"Are we dating?" Her question caught him completely off guard. He almost swerved into the neighboring lane. A honk from an angry motorist turned his attention back to the road.

"Why do you ask?" His curiosity beat out his sense of honesty right now. He desperately wanted to know what she was thinking.

"Well, the nurse mentioned something," she shrugged, the corner of her lip turning up, "and you look like my type so…are we?"

Greg coughed to clear his throat. Yes, he was stalling, but…wait, had she said he was her type? What did that mean? That she found him attractive?

"Yes," he said before he could think better of it. Sure, he would regret it. He kind of already did, well until he saw the bright grin that covered her slightly less guarded expression.

"Good. I was hoping you would say that."

Yep, he was in so much trouble.


	25. Chapter 25

**The Bad Day (Part 2)**

The apartment was foreign yet familiar. Her apartment. Although she didn't remember moving in or painting the accent wall red or anything else about the place. Her furniture looked the same with a few new pieces thrown in here and there. She paused at the end table in the front entryway. Framed photos scattered the tabletop, but only one caught her eye. She and Greg- apparently not a stranger- were smiling for the camera. They looked happy together, relaxed. A faint time stamp at the bottom right hand corner revealed a date.

"How long have we been together?" She turned to him as he closed the front door. "Three years?" she asked, looking once again at the picture's date.

"No, no. We've been friends for about four years, but this…," he coughed, his gaze not quite meeting her eyes. "This is new."

"How new?"

He didn't answer as he darted to the kitchen. "Do you want something to drink? Water? Juice, maybe?"

"No, that's okay," she said following him.

There was a momentary silence as Greg downed a glass of water. He seemed nervous.

"The doctor said you should drink plenty of fluids." He refilled his glass.

She was half listening, her mind wandering elsewhere. "So, do you stay here a lot?"

His eyebrows knitted at her question. Maybe she wasn't being clear.

"I mean, you said this thing between us was new, but we obviously have a history so I guess I was just wondering if we've, you know, been intimate?"

He choked on the water he was sipping, his eyes widening as he gasped for breath. Sensing his distress, she walked over and rubbed his back, trying to help him recover.

"No," he said finding his voice, "we haven't had…" He paused, blushing. "Are you sure you don't want something to drink?"

She smiled. He was cute in this completely awkward way. Definitely her type.

"Actually, now that you mentioned it, I could really go for some juice."

* * *

She made Greg tell her everything about himself…and herself. He was so animated describing everything. She wondered if he was like this all the time. What was she normally like around him? She didn't know if she was the same person or not. If she was the girl Greg knew and… loved? No, cared about. That was better. It was hard to think about being in love with someone you had just met. Although Morgan's heart was arguing with her brain on the matter, thumping wildly every time his knee hit hers as they sat on the couch together. Obviously her heart remembered things her mind wouldn't.

She felt the tears forming in her eyes. She tried to blink them back before he noticed. She failed.

He swiped one falling down her cheek. "Hey," he said softly,"it's going to be okay."

"How do you know? You seem like this great guy, but what if I never remember you or us? What if these past four years were the best of my life and I never get them back?"

He drew her into a hug as the sobs overcame her. He brushed her hair behind an ear and whispered into it.

"You once told me something that really stuck. You said the best is yet to come. Yes, what you are going through sucks, but your life isn't over. Your best years are still waiting to be lived."

She pulled back from his embrace slightly until they were face to face, noses touching. She felt his breath hitch as she moved to kiss him. Her lips pressed into his, lightly at first, but as his parted and his grip on her tighten, drawing her closer, she found herself lost in the kiss. She had secretly hoped it would spark a memory, give her just a taste of what she was missing, but kissing Greg was like nothing she could ever remember feeling before. It was better than anything she could remember feeling before.

When she broke away, he stared at her, almost stunned.

"Wow." She was suddenly very self conscious, running a finger over her tingling lips. "Is it always like that?"

Greg leaned down and captured her mouth with his again before she could ask another question. She melted into him.

He pulled away, breathing heavily. "Yeah," he said, leaning his forehead against hers. "Every time."

* * *

"Greg," the sheriff's voice startled him. He turned to see hard cold eyes staring him down. "A word." Ecklie's arms crossed over his chest. He nodded to the chair opposite his desk as Greg entered his office.

"Sir?"

"First, I wanted to thank you for taking care of Morgan while I was out of town." The sheriff shook his head, his voice softening.

"I can't believe she doesn't remember the last few years," he sighed, rubbing his face. "When I saw her, she looked at me almost disgusted. Just like she used to before…before she came here."

Greg nodded, not really sure where this conversation was headed. "I'm sorry, Conrad. This has been hard on her too."

" I know, I know. She doesn't trust me right now, and I can't blame her. I remember where we were before our breakthrough, and it was a rough place. Look the reason I called you in here is I thought you could talk to her for me. For the past couple of weeks since this whole thing happened, you seem to be the only one she trusts."

Greg winced at his words. The last month he had felt closer to Morgan than he ever had before. He had reintroduced her to their friends and co-workers and had taken her out on a few dates around the city. He wanted to tell her the truth, but every time he tried the words wouldn't form. The fantasy was just too appealing to let go of. He was falling hard. Honestly, he had been for years but would never admit it until now. Now that he knew he stood a chance with her. But he was about to lose all of it. He was the only one she truly trusted and he had lied to her.

"I'll see what I can do," he said, the knot in his stomach growing tighter at the thought of telling Morgan the truth.

* * *

"Greg, are okay? You seem distracted." Morgan rubbed her thumb gently over the back of his hand as she held it. They were sitting next to each other at a fancy French restaurant that she had been dying to try. Apparently, she had studied abroad a semester in college and was desperate to grasp at a comforting memory that she could actually recall.

Just tell her, he thought staring into her concerned blue eyes. She will understand. She may even forgive you.

"Actually-"

"Oh my God!" she squealed cutting him off. Her jaw dropped and contoured into a smile. "Greg, I just remembered something. About us."

"Really? What? How?" His previous train of thought was lost.

"I think it was the first time I met you. You were wearing that shirt," she pointed to the blue button up under his khaki jacket, "and I made some corny joke about you looking like a nerd. You were so flustered." She laughed. " You were adorable."

"Oh God, what made you think of that?" Greg groaned sheepishly.

"Well, Dr. Davis said my memories might start to return and more often as my brain began healing. He said different things could trigger it, like colors or smells. It must have been your shirt that set it off. Isn't that great?"

Greg gave her a small grin, taking a sip of his wine. "That's wonderful." And awful at the same time. Soon, she would realize. Soon she would know the truth: that he was nothing but a coward using her situation to finally make a move on her. The ugliness of it all churned in the pit of his stomach along with his wine, threatening to make a reappearance in the most horrible fashion.

"Oh, Greg, I'm so sorry. You were saying something before I interrupted." She blinked her sweet innocent eyes at him.

"I've just had a lot on my mind lately." He swirled the remaining wine in his glass watching it move with fascination. Anything to keep himself from looking at her trusting face.

Her hand caught his forearm, stilling him. "Well, maybe I can help you clear it for a while." Her seductive sound drew his attention immediately. She lowered her voice to a whisper as she lightly trailed her fingers up and down his arm. "You've been so patient, helping me get through this and all, and, well, I feel comfortable with you again. Enough to finally take the next step." Greg gulped, registering her words and their inopportune timing. She leaned in, her lips tracing the curve of his ear. "How about after dinner you come back to my place and clear your head?"

Shit. He was screwed. Fucked. Damned to hell. Because everything north of his belt buckle refused to function properly. He couldn't do that to her, and yet all he could think about at that particular moment was doing it with her. God, he hoped his conscience kicked in again before dessert.

 **A/N: Sorry, this got longer than I originally thought. I'll end it in part 3.**


	26. Chapter 26

**(Part 3)**

"You lied to me?"

The pain in her eyes hurt more than the slap she planted across his face. She stood in front of him all but naked, save for a matching pair of lacy underwear. He'd cursed himself for letting it get this far before he caved. He should have said something at dinner, but her hand on his knee had been distracting. He should have spoken up the moment they entered her apartment, but his mouth quickly became too preoccupied for words.

"Morgan, I'm sorry-"

"Save it." She threw up a hand to stop him, causing him to wince as a reflex to the last time she'd raised it. "Just leave." Her voice softened as she turned around and pointed the way.

Her hushed sobs shredded his heart. Shit. He had screwed this up so badly. He fought the urge to hold her, opting to grab his coat and shirt and head for the door instead. The last thing she needed was consoling from the jerk who had deceived her. And the last thing he needed was false hope that she would ever forgive him.

He paused in the doorway before leaving. "I love you. I know it's not an excuse, but it's like all rational thought disappears when it comes to you. I wasn't thinking. Period." He gave a heavy sigh. "I'm so sorry."

She didn't turn to look at him as he left, but her crying had stopped. The silence the moment before the door clicked shut was deafening. Greg slumped to the floor on the other side of it. Damn his heart and conscience. The war between them was doing him in.

* * *

Morgan sank into the bed, tears still drying on her cheek.

He loved her. He had said so himself. But he had also lied to her. And she had trusted him completely, out of everyone. She had been cautious around everyone else, including her dad. But not Greg. He was different. He gave her a sense of security she couldn't quite explain, and his presence alone made her feel warm and safe. Or it did, until she learned of his betrayal. And yet, she still wanted to believe him. Why? Her heart raced to tell her something her mind had yet to catch up to.

* * *

She had agreed to meet her dad for brunch. The tension was thick and growing increasingly awkward as neither spoke. Greg was supposed to be there, to act as a mediator, but after last night, what was she expecting?

She stared at the menu to avoid her father's uncomfortable stare.

"So, when is Greg coming?" he asked.

She had opened her mouth to speak when her father's focus shifted, waving to someone behind her. She stiffened. It was him. She just knew it and soon the scent of his woodsy cologne confirmed it.

"You came?" She looked at him startled. His eyes held hers briefly before his gaze fell to the floor.

"I promised, didn't I?" he said, slipping into the seat next to her.

"Well, you said a lot of things last night. I wasn't sure which ones to believe." He flinched at her words.

"What's going on?" Ecklie asked, lost in the interaction.

"I should go." Greg pushed back the seat to leave and knocked into the waitress who splashed the hot coffee she was carrying all over Morgan. The memory washed over her as the heated liquid hit her skin. The image of his smile flashed in her mind. Several images of him actually. Laughing, talking, hugging. A tingling sensation ran through her. She loved him. Before the accident, before the things she could remember. Somehow she knew it. The faint recollection had stirred something in her.

"Morgan? Are you okay?" His voice brought her out of her daze. His hands rested on her shoulders and his expression was one of deep concern.

"Can I talk to you alone for a minute?" she asked, catching her breath. Greg nodded and followed her out into the corridor that extended to the kitchen. Morgan patted her shirt dry with a towel the apologetic waitress had brought.

"Morgan, I-" Greg started but she interrupted.

"Greg, just let me talk, okay? Look, I'm mad that you lied. But I just remembered something…maybe, I think, a few minutes ago brought on by the coffee assault. You lied to me when you said we were dating, but from what I remember, what I feel, I don't think that statement was far off from the truth. I know we weren't technically together, but I think there was something there. Maybe there still is."

She took a deep breath, studying the surprised look in his eyes before continuing. "I'm attracted to you. And I care about you deeply. I might not have all the memories you do, but despite everything, my heart still wants to trust you."

"Morgan, what are you saying?"

"Do you want to be my boyfriend?"

"What?"

"It's a simple question, Greg. The answer is yes or no."

"Um, do you remember last night? I'm the idiot you kicked out after he got you out of your clothes and then confessed that he had deceived you for weeks."

"Yes, I remember. But I also remember that you're the idiot who stopped us before we crossed a line and then said he loved me." She smiled. "And I'm starting to think I feel the same way. Plus you're a fantastic kisser. So…yes or no?"

"You're serious?"

"Yes and you're avoiding the question."

"Morgan, you were a mess last night when I left you. I hate that I did that to you. I almost feel like this is some sort of trick to get back at me."

"Are you saying that you don't trust me?"

"What?! No!"

"No you don't trust me? Or no you don't want to be my boyfriend?"

"Neither…I mean yes….I mean no. Morgan, you are confusing the hell out of me. Can we just take a second while I wrap my head around this?"

She sighed, nodding. He ran his hands through his hair, thinking. His eyes ran over her body. Her perfect body with just the right curves in the all the right places. She stood almost a foot shorter than him and he loved that too. She was chewing her bottom lip. Her perfect pouty lip that he desperately wanted to taste again. And then he was, his mouth devouring hers. Strawberries and mint. That was what she tasted like. It was divine. He couldn't get enough, their tongues exploring, tangling.

A loud cough startled them, causing them to jump apart. Greg turned to find Ecklie giving him a stern questioning stare.

"If you two don't mind, I would like to order some time today."

They both muttered apologies as the sheriff shook his head and walked away.

"So, was that a yes? You want to try the whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing for real?" She looked up at him with hopeful eyes clouded by a hint of doubt.

He tucked a stray blonde lock behind her ear. "Morgan, it was always real for me."

She grinned and kissed his cheek. God, she loved him. Now she only wished she could remember him.

* * *

She was so adorable when she slept. Greg brushed his fingers through her hair. He smiled watching her wrinkle her nose at his touch. It had been six months since Morgan lost her memory, but she was starting to gain it back again, slowly but surely. Each day she surprised him with a little tidbit she recalled about him or their job. It made him so happy to have parts of her back, including the return of some of their favorite inside jokes.

She had also begun to rebuild her relationship with her father again. The weekly brunches had been the catalyst to her change of heart. They were on good terms once more, so Ecklie eventually warmed up to the idea of Greg dating his daughter better than Greg had expected. Morgan made him suffer though for his lying indiscretion by withholding sex for another month while they rebuild trust. Not that Greg was complaining. He had already waited four years for her, what was a few more weeks?

And here she was, lying in his arms in their bed in their new apartment together. She was definitely worth the wait. She might never remember all of their past, but he was going to make damn sure every moment of their future was memorable, starting with tonight, when he planned on throwing on that old Frank Sinatra record and getting down on one knee. He held their memories, but she had their dreams. And he was going to make sure all of them came true.

 **Sorry, it took a while to write. Things kept coming up. You know, life and all. I'm going to try to write a separate holiday story in the next few weeks, but if anyone has any requests send them my way. I love writing them and having a starting point to go from. : )**


	27. Chapter 27

**A Collection of Firsts**

 **First Kiss**

"You know it's Greg's birthday, right?" Hodges gave her a quizzical look after she had asked why everyone was gathering in the break room.

Crap, how could she have forgotten? Two weeks straight without a day off and a double shift last night, that's how. Morgan groaned, slapping her palm against her forehead. She always given her co-workers special little gifts on their birthdays. It was her thing. She was something of a gift connoisseur. She knew exactly the right thing to give someone, usually something unexpected yet so perfect that the pleased shock on the recipient's face was genuine. The reaction was her favorite part, the highlight of her day. But she had been so consumed with work lately, the days blending together, Greg's birthday had completely slipped her mind. What was she going to do? He would be so disappointed if he knew, and he was the last person she would ever want to let down.

The scent of burning wax and buttercream wafted in as she slid among the crowd gathered around the table. Greg stood, an embarrassed smile on his face, as the rest of the office sang to him. His eyes raised from the cake to find hers. An oddly intense expression flickered over him as their gazes locked. She smiled, mouthing the words "Happy Birthday."

"Well, aren't you going to make a wish?" Catherine nudged him, stealing his attention away. Greg nodded and then blew out the candles. He glanced back up at Morgan. Her breath hitched. It looked like he was about to say something to her, but then he was distracted by someone patting him on the back, turning to talk to them instead.

Half a slice of vanilla cake and ten minutes later, Morgan had managed to make her way over to him as the crowd began to dissipate.

"Hey birthday boy," she said extending an one arm hug around him, "did you get everything you wished for?"

He gave a throaty chuckle. "Guess I won't know until I open your gift."

He looked at her, soft brown eyes full of expectation. Her stomach clenched. Shit. Guilt weighed on her heavily.

"Actually…" the words died on her tongue. She couldn't tell him. He just looked so damn cute, like a sweet puppy. Too sweet for heartbreak. She licked her lips and watched his gaze fall to her mouth. It gave her an idea.

A quick sweep of the room told her it was now empty save for the two of them. "Actually, I thought I might go a little unconventional with your gift this year." The whispered confession caused him to raise an intrigued eyebrow.

She inched closer to him, her hands moving to rest at the nape of his neck. His eyes widened as she forged ahead, pulling him down to level his face with hers. She closed her eyes. No turning back now. Her lips gently brushed against his which opened slightly in surprise. And then he was kissing her back. Hungrily. His hands roamed the terrain of her backside as he pulled her closer. Holy hell. It was like someone had lit a fuse inside her. Heat and desire coursed through her.

A knock at the opened door tore them apart. Morgan stepped back, swiping her fingers along her swollen lips, afraid to look at Greg.

"Didn't mean to interrupt. Just came to wish Greg a happy birthday and steal a piece of cake." Morgan froze at the sound of the all too familiar voice. She would know that condemning tone anywhere. It had been there when she had broken the neighbor's window, got caught sneaking out of the house, and her first day on the job in Vegas.

"Don't you two have work to do?" She turned to face her father, whose expression matched his voice. He cut into the cake, holding the knife almost threateningly as he sliced. He sent a pointed glare in Greg's direction.

"Yes sir," Greg said, pushing Morgan towards the door and away from the sheriff's crippling stare. As they walked into the hall, Greg leaned down next to her ear. "Thanks. That was exactly what I wished for. "

She stilled, watching him as he winked and headed into Catherine's office. Yep, the reaction was always the best part. Except this time, she was the one surprised.

* * *

 **First Date**

Greg asked her out during an autopsy. It was two days after his birthday. Two days after the kiss. Poor Andrew Michelson, a sixty five year old renowned violinist and sufferer of apparent chronic heart failure, had laid on the slab waiting for Doc Robbins to sew up what remained of him when Greg decided to pop the question. "You want to go out with me tomorrow night?"

Morgan stopped mid-peel in the process of removing her latex gloves, shooting him a clumsy stare. "Huh?"

"You know, like a date?"

She felt the heat of Doc Robbins's gaze on her as he stitched up the corpse, a smirk undoubtedly crossing his face. Well, this was awkward. In fact, the whole last two days had been uncomfortable with whispers following her everywhere she went in the lab. However, in Greg's defense, awkward timing did seemed to be his specialty. He could always make her laugh, spouting inappropriate jokes at all the wrong times. Although, she didn't feel like laughing now. She felt conflicted and slightly embarrassed, her cheeks flushing. She really had to stop kissing guys she worked with.

"Um, I don't know. Do you think that's such a good idea?"

Silence engulfed the sterile room until the coroner spoke. "Will you look at that? All out of thread for the sutures. If you'll excuse me…" Morgan watched the metallic door swing shut behind him as he made his escape. She turned to face Greg, letting out a breath she had been holding.

He was grinning. It unnerved her. Her body tingled at the simple friendly gesture that seemed to hide a hint of seduction behind it.

"Sometimes you don't know what's a good idea until you try it," he stated, shrugging as his eyebrow wagged.

She laughed. Yep, always the incorrigible flirt."Alright, you've got me. I do love a good experiment. We can test your theory tomorrow night. Pick me up around nine."

"It's a date." And maybe a game changer, she couldn't help thinking while tossing her gloves.

* * *

"What is this place?" Morgan stared up at the brightly lit sign illuminating the deserted entrance to what looked like a graveyard for comically large bar signs and marquees.

"The Neon Boneyard Park." Greg took her hand leading her to the locked gate. He knelt down and picked a rock from the corner revealing a key. "It's closed normally, but I know a guy who works here and called in a special favor." He unlocked the gate, glancing down at her. "Care for a tour?"

"Please." She looked in awe at all the old Vegas memorabilia littering the ground, creating a haphazard maze. This was nothing like what she had been expecting, her short lacy black dress and Prada heels confessing as much. She thought Greg would wine and dine her, maybe spring for tickets to a show. This, well…the man definitely had a few tricks up his sleeve, and she found herself excited to see where the night would take them.

"Greg, this place is amazing." And it was, the neon lights playing upon the pathway and in the sky, a beautiful contrast to the darkness that surrounded them.

His hand warmed hers as he grasped it. "Yeah, it's awesome, right? The best of Vegas, all in one place."

As they walked around, Greg shared some historical tidbit or story for almost every piece of neon art. Morgan couldn't remember a date she had enjoyed more. It was romantic and intimate, and most importantly, comfortable. She felt relaxed. No first date jitters, no weird pauses in the conversation. Just two friends exploring new territory.

"I've having a great time. Thank you." They stopped walking. He turned to face her.

"Glad to hear it. So maybe this was a good idea after all?"

Her heart fluttered and her cheeks flushed. "Maybe. It might still be too early to determine that yet." She flashed him a coy smile. He looked toward the bold sign strewn before them.

"So rumor has it if you make out in front of the old Stardust sign, it's good luck." He nodded towards it. Meanwhile, his arms circled her waist as he pulled her closer.

Her hands splayed on his chest, keeping distance between them. She couldn't help noticing the muscular definition beneath the fabric of his shirt. "Is that so? Sounds to me like you're just trying to get lucky."

"Which would make this particular experiment a success, no?" He smirked. "Can't say I didn't try." His darken eyes searched hers, waiting for her response. If only she could get her brain to function and form words. Wow, did he smell good. Uh oh, there were those conflicting feelings again. She desperately wanted to kiss him again, but at what price? He was one of her best friends. What would happen if he become more?

"You and your experiments." She shook her head, smiling. "So that's the only qualitative data you have to base whether this date is effective or not? Sex? Where's the control?"

His face lowered to meet hers, noses touching, their mouths mere inches apart. "That disappeared the moment I saw you in this dress."

Morgan giggled. "God, that line is cheesy. You use that on all the ladies?"

"Nope. In fact, there haven't been any ladies since the moment I met you. " A audible gasp escaped her. He shifted before she could speak again, and then his lips were on hers, the line between friend and lover official blurring.

* * *

 **First Time**

Morgan had a five date rule. No sex until at least five dates in. She weeded out a lot of losers that way. In fact, currently she had only slept with three other men. A high school mistake named Dylan, an old boyfriend named Mike and her ex fiancé, Trevor. But only two dates in with Greg, she was already tempted to break her clear cut guidelines and throw caution to the wind. When you know, you know, right?

She went about setting the stage. Candlelight illuminating the dark room, a bottle of wine and glasses strategically placed on the coffee table, and under her attire, a new set of matching lingerie that had cost her more than last month's car payment. But it would all be worth it. She hoped. Nevertheless, she intended to make date number three more than memorable.

"Be glad you had the night off. We had a triple homicide that was brutal," Greg said, stripping off his coat as he entered her apartment. One glance at the ambience had him doing a double take. He pegged her with widened eyes. "Um…so what did you have planned for tonight?"

"Well, technically it's morning. And to answer your question, just some wine and a movie." She feigned innocence. "Why? Were you expecting something else?"

A sultry touch of her hand along his arm caught a slight shiver shuddering through him. "No." The hoarse lie was whispered, too soft to be believed.

"You sure about that?"

"Morgan-" His hand grazed through her hair. Desire pooled within her.

Her eyes locked with his. "Greg, do you want to take this…relationship…um, further? Because I'm ready if-"

His mouth covered hers before she could say more. "Yeah, I do," came his muffled reply.

While their tongues tangled, Morgan unbuttoned his shirt, unbuckled his belt, and unzipped his jeans. The sight of him bared only in boxers before her took her breath away. She couldn't peel her eyes from him. All of him. Five years of flirting and foreplay was just about enough to do her in.

"Um, I feel sort of exposed here." She blushed, realizing she was staring. "Mind joining me?" He whispered in her ear, lifting her t-shirt over her head, her expensive bra now on display. His jaw went slack as he gaze stuck to her breasts. She coughed to bring his attention back to her face. He swallowed hard before speaking again.

"You're beautiful. Have I ever told you that before? Because…wow!"

She grinned. The lingerie was definitely a purchase well made. "Thank you. You're not so bad yourself. Want to finish what you started?" Her fingers tugged at the edge of her yoga pants, sliding them to the ground. With a saunter and a little sass, she stepped out of them and around Greg heading to the bedroom clad only in her underwear. She turned over her shoulder as she reached the door, realizing Greg was still frozen in place behind her, hypnotized by her sway.

"Coming?" she asked.

He gulped, following. "Probably sooner than you think."

He kissed her gentling, laying her on the bed. He removed the last of her clothes as she tugged at the last of his. After slipping on protection, he lowered onto her, staring into her eyes while he did so. This was really happening. She was still awe-struck by that realization as his mouth wandered her body, working its way up her torso to her neck. Soon his touch replaced her shock with yearning. His lidded eyes met hers again, holding her gaze steady as they finally connected on the carnal level she had lusted after for so long. It was everything they had never said. Every promise those few kisses had held. God, she had never experienced anything like it. If this was making love, what the hell had she been doing all those other times…because, holy shit, this was fantastic. This was amazing. This was perfect.

Afterwards, she watched him sleep, resting her head in the crook of his arm. Her fingers trail along the side of Greg's serene face. If this was a dream, she hoped she would never wake up.

* * *

 **First "Loves"**

"Trevor." Catherine had said a detective from LAPD was arriving today to help with the Libra killer case, a slew of murders involving corrupt legal officials, which had become a national sensation with the latest murders occurring in Vegas. Morgan just never expected said expert to be her ex fiancé.

She and Greg had been dating for four months, and after finally gaining her father's approval and the inevitable office gossip dying down, the last thing they need was an awkward blast from the past.

"Morgan." He smiled when he saw her. Her stomach dropped. After her disastrous break-up with Trevor, she had swore off work-related romances for good. But then Greg happened. Sweet, loving Greg. The guy who knew exactly how she took her coffee and who would suffer through an hours long marathon of recorded Bachelor episodes just for her. She cursed under her breath. There was no way this situation was going to go well.

Trevor looked the same. A little thinner, maybe, but besides that, it was like stepping into a time machine and traveling back six years. She hated the thought of Greg seeing him talking to her, especially considering how much Trevor resembled Nick. This would lead to no good.

"It's been a long time. How have you been?" He went in for a hug but she stepped back and out of his reach. She offered her hand for a shake instead, her eyes warily studying the end of the hallway where they stood.

"Great. And yourself?" Her gaze traveled to the credentials fastened to his shirt. "You're a detective now, I see. How's that going?"

"A lot lonelier than I expected." He pinned her with his stare, smoldering brown eyes meeting her cautious blue ones. "I miss you."

"Well, she hardly ever thinks about you." Greg's voice from behind startled her. Shit. Terrible timing as always.

"And you are?" Trevor smiled as he said it , looking at Greg, but Morgan heard the challenge in his tone.

"Her boyfriend."

Trevor smirk was smug, as he evaluated Greg. "Well, nice to meet you…I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"Greg Sanders."

"Well, Saunders-"

"Sanders."

"Right, Sanders. That's what I meant. Looking forward to working with you on the case." His eyes traveled back to Morgan, sending a chill down her. "Looking forward to working with you both."

He walked away, Morgan watching him exit.

"Do you still love him?" She flinched, turning around to face Greg.

"No, of course not. It's been years."

"Yes, but you almost married him. So don't lie to me and tell me you feel nothing." He crossed his arms over his chest, testing her.

She mirrored his stance. "But I didn't marry him. Sure, he's no stranger, but he's also not you. Stop being so jealous." She reached up and kissed his cheek, before walking off to catch her breath and cool her thoughts.

Working with both Greg and Trevor was proving to be exhausting. Each was acting as some alpha male trying to stake his claim. When one finished looking over a piece of evidence, the other had to verify it. Every comment directed at her from one of them had to be one upped by the other. Three hours into the investigation Morgan was ready to scream. So she did. Sort of.

"Will you two knock it off? We are running around in circles here just because each one of you wants to prove you're superior. Enough."

"Morgan, this guy is obviously not over you. He needs to know his place. This isn't even his department," Greg sneered.

"Look, pal, just because you are insecure about where you stand with Morgan is no need to put down my abilities. I was brought in because I'm the expert on this case. And if you need a few tips on seducing Morgan, I also happen to be an expert there as well."

It was only after Morgan hit him that Trevor realized he was bleeding.

"Look here, asshole. You know nothing about me except that I was once gullible enough to believe the lies that fell from your no-good, cheating mouth. You will shut up and leave Greg alone. I love him. Not you. Never you. I don't even think I knew what that word meant until I met him."

She registered the silence behind her as it dawned on her what she had just said. They had never use the "L" word before. She had been scared to. Scared it would be too soon. Scared she would run him off. But now it was out there and she had to turn around and face the consequences.

"Greg, I-"

"I love you too." He grinned walking over towards her, her ex forgotten.

"You do?" She smiled back, welcoming his embrace.

"Hell yes. Probably since my birthday. Honestly, probably before that even. But, it's been a long time coming."

Morgan pulled him down into a long kiss, breaking it only when they heard Trevor cough.

He apologized. Either their declarations of love or Morgan's right hook scared him into being nothing but professional the rest of his visit.

Morgan, watching her past and hopefully her future working side by side, couldn't help but thankful that some of her worst choices had help lead her to one of her best.

* * *

 **First (and Second) Proposal**

When Trevor had proposed to her, it had been at Dodger's stadium on the Jumbotron. She knew the moment she had said yes it was mostly likely a mistake. The tightness in her chest was her first clue, leaving her breathless in an anxious way as thousands of people waited for her answer. She remembered gritting her teeth and praying he mistook it for a smile. He did, and she refused to go to any professional sporting event ever since.

Until tonight, that is. Greg begged her to go and hesitantly she agreed. It was their six month anniversary. Throughout the whole basketball game, Morgan could barely focus. She tapped her foot, chew her fingernails, and sat sullenly in the metal seat.

Greg questioned her about her strange behavior on the ride home, prompting her to confess how lackluster her first proposal had been.

"Did you really think I was going to propose?"

This made her eyes widen and her heart almost stop. They had never really discussed marriage before, but she stupidly believed they were on the same page. She wanted to get married someday. Clearly, seeing as how she was formerly engaged, but now it was occurring to her that maybe Greg didn't want to get married. The man was already forty and his dating history was spotty at best. Shit. How could she had not thought of this before? Was she wasting her time? Would Greg also break her heart eventually? She didn't think she could survive it if he did.

"Well, no, I don't know." She was so flustered. She stared out the passenger window to avoid eye contact. "We never talked about it before. Do you want to get married? Someday, I mean."

She felt tears building up with the silence. It was only seconds but it felt like an eternity.

"Maybe. Someday."

She breathed a small sigh of relief. It wasn't a definite yes, but it wasn't a no either. She could handle maybe. At least, she thought she could. But four months later, and still little to no discussion on the topic, she was beginning to worry. She hated it. She so did not want to be that girl. But on the flip side, she so desperately wanted to be Greg's girl, permanently, with legal documentation that said as much.

Another birthday was just another reminder that she was still an unwed thirty something year old. She humored the rest of the lab staff as they brought out the customary cake in the break room. She rolled her eyes as they loaded down the frosting with numerous candles.

"Seriously, you couldn't have just sprung for a big candle 3 and 2? This many is kind of humiliating."

"Oh, the embarrassment has just begun," Hodges said, smirking as he stepped out of the way revealing Greg dressed up in a tuxedo with a small black box in his hands. Morgan gasped.

"Morgan Brody," he said, kneeling on one knee in front of her as everyone packed into the small room, gawking. "Almost a year ago, you made my wish come true. I want to spend the rest of my life making sure all yours do too. Will you marry me?" He opened the box. A two caret diamond stared back up at her.

This sense of breathless was new, different than before. She felt like she was floating, the huge smile on her face uncontrollable.

"Yes," she cried, letting him slip the ring on her finger as the rest of the lab hooped and hollered. It was simple. It was sweet. It was perfect.

Seven months later, she stood in front of Greg wearing white gown and smile. They recited their vows and shared another first kiss, this time as man and wife.


	28. Chapter 28

**Memories (Part 1)**

 **This is AU but I tried working it into their history based on the show. Also, I lowered the age difference between them to like 4 years.**

Greg understood now why people named hard liquor after men. Because when you wake up the morning after, feeling like shit and regretting every bad decision you've made the night before, you really need a fall guy. Some one to blame for the stupidity that occurred. Take your pick: Jim Beam, Jose Cuervo, Jack Daniels. It was their fault, he wanted to yell but his throat was too dry.

At least he could take comfort in the fact that he was in his own room. The light was dim, daylight barely peeking through the windows. What the hell happened? Images swirled in his head. The frat party at the Phi Beta Sigma house. Red solo cups and a girl with a beautiful smile. Then it got blurrier. He remembered soft lips and the smell of lavender. Raking his hands through silky blonde curls, running his tongue over taut nipples, groaning in pleasure against the smooth curve of a luscious neck. He was still trying to put together the small fragments of memory he had from the night before when something next to him moved. No, not something. Someone. Someone with long light hair showcasing a sliver of a bare shoulder under his sheets.

The girl moaned and shifted, bright blue eyes startled to meet his own.

"Hi," he croaked, still gathering his voice.

"Hi," was her equally awkward response. Her gaze make a quick sweep of his room as he cringed internally, imagining what she thought. "Oh my god!" She bolt up, clinging to the sheet in embarrassed modesty. "Did we?"

A glance at the used condom wrapper on his night stand confirmed their suspicions. Holy shit! He'd gotten laid. Finally. After four years of college he had lost his virginity and to a beautiful girl at that. Hopefully after the hangover wore off he would remember it more clearly.

"Shit! I'm so sorry. I- I need my phone. I have to go. Michelle is going to kill me!"

She stumbled around the mess on the floor, gathering up her clothes while desperately trying to keep the bed sheet in place.

"Wait! What's your number? Maybe I can call you later, um…"

"Morgan." She glared at him, stopping momentarily from her determined attempt to try to secure her clothes without revealing too much. "And I don't think that's a good idea." Her voice softened and he swore her eyes were starting to fill with unshed tears.

"Michelle, I mean, Morgan. I'm sorry. I just thought-" He stood up himself, dizzy, grabbing the comforter to hide behind, slightly embarrassed now that shame was starting to replace the alcohol infused haze.

"Look, Greg, I really have to go. But, it was…" She looked at him for help. A word to describe what last night meant to him.

"Memorable?" The way she winced told him he had chosen poorly in his description.

"Right. Memorable." She tugged on her shoes, the last of her attire, and fled his room before he could utter another word.

* * *

She was an idiot. At first, she thought it had all been a just wonderful dream until she woke up next to him, naked. She had just given her virginity to some college jerk who didn't even remember her name. Yep, she was a total idiot. The tears she had been holding back started to spill down her cheeks. He had been so sweet the night before, unlike the other guys who had trying pawing at her with clumsy hands and cheesy pick up lines. They had spent most of the night just talking outside on the balcony Morgan had escaped to, getting away from the assholes sucking down drinks downstairs.

They had discussed everything. His major: chemistry with a minor in history, and the reason for him avoiding the party. (He was studying.) Her interest in colleges: UCLA when she graduated in a few months. Their families: he was an only child and so was she. And of course, their failed attempts at relationships with the opposite sex. That's how Morgan knew he was also a virgin. And then something clicked, a connection, a spark. He kissed her and she reciprocated. They agreed that it was as perfect a time as any to lose it. And after some liquid courage, they did.

It had been everything she had imagined: awkward, embarrassing, and slightly painful. But it had also been more than she was expecting: comfortable, sweet, and extremely intimate. He had seen places- touch places- no one ever had before. The memory made her shiver.

Her phone buzzed in her hands, shocking her back into the present. It was Michelle. Her cousin she was visiting for the weekend. The one who thought a party at her boyfriend's fraternity would be a great bonding experience for the both of them - until said boyfriend came along and Michelle completely disappeared. Morgan rolled her eyes. Really, this was all her fault, Michelle and her stupid ideas.

She answered the phone, breath bated for the shit storm she was about to receive.

"Where the hell are you?" A screech that sounded almost human came through.

"Doing my first and last walk of shame ever," Morgan muttered into the phone. She closed her eyes, ignoring the screaming coming from the other end of the receiver. As Michelle laid into her about safety and responsibility and then crying apologies for leaving her, Morgan shook her head. Never again. Never would she let some guy treat her like an afterthought again. Especially Greg Sanders.

* * *

 **Twelve years later**

When Catherine had first mentioned his name, she had suspected it might have been him. But when Nick called him over to introduce them on her first day in Vegas, she knew it was. Her suspicions were more than confirmed. He looked exactly the same, except that his hair was shorter and neater, but it was definitely him. No more doubts in her mind. No more telling herself Greg Sanders was a very common name. It could have been a coincidence or worst, fate. Damn destiny. It always screwed her in the love department.

From the look he had given her at their awkward re-introduction, he didn't remember her. Morgan didn't know whether she should have felt relieved or angry. Of course she remembered him. But who forgets the person you lose your virginity to? Greg Sanders, that's who.

She played it off as cool as she could. She gave him the "history nerd" line as a hint, hoping for some recognition. A spark? A knowing smile? Instead she got the same roaming eye look that jocks at the gym gave before hitting on her. She waited for the inevitable pause in the conversation to duck out. Morgan willed herself not to cry. She was stronger than that. Maybe it was better that he didn't remember. It would make working with him a whole hell of a lot easier. At least she hoped it would.

She tried to act normal, treating Greg like any other colleague despite the increase in her heart rate whenever he was around. It wasn't going to be like that. Not any more. Especially since they were working together. Although, she could sense he felt differently, that he was just working up the courage to ask her out. He flirted with her relentlessly, and practically jumped at the chance to take her out on her first case that wasn't a national news worthy (quadruple) homicide. She knew she had to squash that immediately. Fool her once, shame on you. Fool her twice, ha- like you'd ever have the chance to.

That's why she asked if Nick was seeing someone. Planted the seed that she was interested in someone else. Then watched the idea grow wildly in his mind. Hell, taunted him with it. Like commenting about the hot guy plastered on the chocolate shop's walls. Or making that remark to the shop's owner about loving her campaign slogan. She liked sex. Actually she had loved sex with Greg, but she had to make it clear: she was not available to him. Ever. Especially considering he couldn't even be bothered to keep the memory of the one time they had been intimate.

The heart is fickle though. It contradicted her almost daily. She laughed at his jokes and then cursed herself internally for letting down her guard. She would act friendly and then old feelings would resurface and she would have to excuse her, escaping to get air, to get space, wanting to be anything with him but friends. The day she was rescued after the hijacked helicopter crashed, it took all of her willpower not to run to him, not to cry on his shoulders, not to desire the warmth of his arms around her. It was the day she realized she was more broken than she cared to admit. It was the day she made a promise to herself, strengthening her resolve. She would date again. She would put herself out there. But above all else, she would not fall for Greg again. No matter what.

* * *

She was gorgeous yet easy to talk to. She was comfortable to be around. Almost familiar. He couldn't put his finger on what it was about her. But there was indeed something about Morgan, whether he could define it or not. He had planned on asking her out the day they got the call out about the piano in the desert. But his plans changed that day. The day they found Allison.

Allison. The petite brunette he had met at an Old Vegas History Convention. Shredded and left to rot. It had hurt just to look at her. She didn't deserve to die, not like she did. And when he found out he was the reason she was attacked, the guilt overwhelmed him again.

It had been a fling. She wanted something more, but he couldn't. _She_ was still out there somewhere. Mystery girl. It gnawed at his heart. It had been one night, years ago, and while all the memories never quite returned, the feelings never left. He could feel her skin molded against his, smell her lavender scent, but he couldn't remember her face any more, couldn't even remember her name. Stupid alcohol. It left a hole in his memory of that perfect night, and the effects of the resulting hangover had also caused him to fail his midterm.

He was downtrodden, sitting in the locker room thinking about the woman who had died. One who could have been more if he had just let go of an impossible dream. One who could have been alive if she had never met him.

Morgan sat beside him. The hint of her floral perfume hitting him at the worst time. She smelled so good. What was wrong with him? How could he be in mourning for one woman but still want another one so badly?

He greeted her and, against his better judgment, told her about him and Allison. Another perfect memory, now spoiled- unlike the one who got away.

"She wanted to see you. That's something to hold on to." She pulled out the Frank Sinatra record and placed it in his hands. "Just bought this."

He looked at her, stunned.

"You know what Sinatra always said?" Her voice, god, how it affected him.

"That's life?" He shrugged, trying to play off the inopportune desires that were scorching through him.

"No," she leaned in close, whispering the last part. "The best is yet to come."

He froze. He remembered. Oh god. That was exactly what he had told mystery girl before they…no way. But then he ventured a glance at Morgan and he saw it. Blonde silky curls bouncing away as she walked out of the room. Lingering lavender perfume validating what he still couldn't wrap his mind around. Morgan was his mystery girl, the one he had lost it to and then lost. Holy shit!

He had finally found her. Now the question was: what was he going to do about it?

 **Next: Part 2 - hopefully next week?**


End file.
